I 


<i  JV 


"lAni  iheT.ruo 


HiuuumimmiumiMHimniamumiw 


FROM   THE   LIBRARY  OF 


REV.    LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,   D.  D 


BEQUEATHED    BY   HIM    TO 


THE   LIBRARY  OF 


PRINCETON   THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY 


S3 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS, 

■0\  OF  n\HQ£ 


/ 


AND  OTHER  PPEjVl 


1333  * 


(ftLQ{     .    f>E*^ 


BY 


CAROLINE    M.    NOEL 


From  the  Fifteenth  Thousand  of  the  English  Edition. 


NEW  YORK: 
ANSON  D.  F.  RANDOLPH  &  COMPANY, 

900   BROADWAY,   COR.   20TH   ST. 


To   S.    N. 


When  I  give  thanks  to  God,  for  all 

His  priceless  gifts  to  me, 
Believe  that  then,  among  the  chief, 

I  give  Him  thanks  for  thee. 

For  all  the  love  that  He  has  rained 
Upon  me,  from  thine  eyes, 

That    shine    like    stars    above    my 
storms, 
Calm,  though  they  sympathize. 

And  if  one  day  the  hands  must  loose, 
That  now  so  fondly  clasp, 

Yet,  e'en  though  parted,  both  will  be 
Within  the  same  strong  grasp. 

One  on  Christ's  bosom  gently  laid, 

The  other  safely  led 
A  longer  road,  unto  the  land 

Where  live  the  blessed  Dead. 


There  meeting,  who  can  guess  the 
gleam 

Of  rapture,  that  will  rise, 
When  we  the  light  of  that  fair  realm 

See  in  each  other's  eyes  ? 

O  deep  unspeakable  repose 

Of  knowing,  that  for  aye 
All  that  disturbed  and  hindered  love 

Has  wholly  passed  away  ! 

Sin,  sickness,  sorrow,  chills  of  age, 
And  pangs  of  mortal  fear, 

Can    never    reach    the   land    where 
Christ 
Has  wiped  away  each  tear. 

For  Death  has  no  dominion  there, 
Where  Sin  has  never  trod, 

But  souls  transfigured,  live  and  love, 
Within  the  Life  of  God. 


Easter,  1868. 


Then  fear  we  not  to  trust  His  Word, 
And  cherish  Love's  increase  ; 

Since  e'en  its  sharpest  throes  must  pass 
Into  Eternal  Peace. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


http://archive.org/details/fjesusotherOOnoel 


%\x  ^Xcmoxmrn. 


The  present  edition  of  these  poems,  as  well  as 
any  that  may  hereafter  be  called  for,  must  needs  dif- 
fer in  one  respect  from  any  that  have  preceded  it. 
In  previous  editions,  fresh  poems  were  added  by 
the  Author  from  time  to  time.  Now,  the  volume  is 
complete  ;  and  the  present  Edition  is  sent  forth  in 
loving  memory  of  one  whose  earthly  work  is  finished. 

Many  into  whose  hands  this  volume  may  fall,  and 
those  especially  to  whom  the  prayer  that  it  might  be 
employed  in  the  "  Ministry  of  Consolation  "  has  been 
answered,  may  find  it  helpful,  as  well  as  interesting, 
to  learn  somewhat  of  the  circumstances  which  gave 
its  special  character  to  this  work. 

A  sickness  prolonged  for  more  than  twenty  years, 
with  seasons  of  extreme  suffering  and  weakness — so 
extreme  at  times,  that  the  end  seemed  imminent ;  a 
peculiar  sensitiveness  of  nerve  and  brain,  which  could 

5 


IN  MEMORIAM. 


seldom  bear  the  presence  of  earthly  friends ;  long 
nights  and  days  of  throbbing  sleeplessness  : — such 
was  the  school  in  which  were  taught  and  learned 
those  lessons  of  "  submission, "  of  willing  acceptance 
of  "  the  yoke,"  of  "  patient  hope,"  of  trust  and  of 
glorying  in  "  the  Name  of  Jesus  "  and  "  the  Cross 
of  Jesus,"  and  in  which  were  won  the  peculiar  depth 
and  power  of  sympathy  which  breathe  throughout 
these  pages. 

These  were  doubtless  the  advanced  and  ripened 
fruits  ;  but  they  were  developed  from  a  natural  char- 
acter of  more  than  ordinary  breadth  and  beauty. 
All  who  knew  the  Author  in  outwardly  brighter  days 
were  conscious  of  rich  and  varied  powers  of  mind, 
of  a  delicate  refinement,  of  a  singular  playfulness 
of  thought,  and  a  love  of  all  that  is  beautiful  in 
nature  and  in  art,  together  with  an  ever-deepening 
humility,  which  were  among  her  early  as  well  as  her 
latest  characteristics. 

There  are  few  who  will  not  allow  how  natural  it  is, 

in  prolonged  sickness,  to  make  its  very  loneliness  into 

a  home  from  which  the  si^hs  and  sorrows  of  the  outer 

world  are   gradually  excluded;   but  here  it  will  be 

observed,  that  in  all  the  later  poems  the  sympathies 

6 


IN  MEMORIAM. 


take  an  even  wider  range,  and  are  specially  with  the 
bereaved.  Is  a  mother  mourning  for  a  little  child 
called  away  on  the  voyage  homeward  from  a  distant 
land  ? — are  the  family  joys  of  Christmas  mellowed 
by  an  unlooked-for  loss  ? — does  the  Church  mourn 
the  sudden  removal  of  a  Chief  Pastor,  whose  minis- 
trations the  Author  herself  had  known  and  prized 
in  her  father's  *  house  ? — To  these  and  all  such 
mourners  her  loving  and  earnest  sympathies  were 
extended  ;  while  every  record  of  a  "  course  fulfilled," 
of  a  "  heart  that  throbbed  with  suffering,"  now 
"bathed  in  endless  calm,"  was  hailed  with  deepest 
thankfulness. 

Amid  the  many  lights  that  were  graciously  per- 
mitted to  fall  across  this  shadowed  life,  and  that  gave 
so  cheering  and  joyous  a  brightness  to  this  sick- 
room, must  be  mentioned  the  pleasure  derived  from 
the  "  unusual  acceptance  "  given  to  this  volume. 
Often  was  her  heart  gladdened  by  the  testimonies 
received,  from  varied  and  quite  unexpected  quar- 
ters, to  the  encouragement,  consolation,  or  help, 
which  its  perusal  had  afforded ;  while  the  knowledge 

*  The  late  Hon.  and  Rev.  Gerard  T.  Noel,  then  Canon  of 
Winchester  and  Vicar  of  Romsey. 

7 


IN  ME  MORI  AM. 


that  some  of  its  verses*  were  to  be  heard  in  the 
Church's  public  services,  from  which  their  Author 
had  been  so  long  withheld,  was  an  additional  source 
of  gladness. 

It  was  but  a  short  time  before  the  present  Edition 
was  needed,  that  the  long-looked-for  summons  came. 
A  few  days  of  acute  suffering  were  followed  by  some 
hours  of  unconsciousness ;  and  then,  without  a  sigh, 
she  passed  into  the  Sunshine  of  His  Blessed  Presence. 

"  O  life  fulfilled— 
In  rapture  stilled — 
With  Him,  Who  led  her  by  the  road 
Of  suffering,  to  be  crowned  of  God  !  " 

R.  G.  M. 

London  :  Easter,  1878. 

*  Ascension  Day,  p.  65  ;  Missionary  Hymn,  p.  1S1. 

8 


PREFACE  TO  THE  THIRD   EDITION, 


These  verses  were  printed  in  their  rough,  unfin- 
ished state,  just  as  they  were  written  down  at  the 
dictation  of  one  who  is  incapacitated  by  weakness 
for  the  task  of  revision  and  correction.  As  they 
have  met  with  unusual  acceptance  from  many  of 
those  for  whom  they  were  intended,  they  are  again 
published,  with  considerable  additions. 

May  He,  Who  was  anointed  that  He  might  "  com- 
fort all  that  mourn, "  vouchsafe  to  give  them  some 
further  employment  in  His  Ministry  of  Consolation  ! 


C.  M.  N. 
October,  1863. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The  Name  of  Jesus 15 

Indwelling 19 

God  of  All  Love  and  Pity 22 

The  Yoke •       •       •       •       •  34 

Winchester  Cathedral •        •        •        •  28 

Submission 31 

Passing  Hence 33 

Chastisement 35 

Retrospect 38 

The  Pilgrim 41 

Still  Waters 43 

A  Contrast 46 

Self-Accusation 49 

Disappointment         .                        51 

"  Upbraideth  Not  " •        •  53 

The  Annunciation 56 

The  Divine  Infancy 59 

"  He  Laid  His  Hand  Upon  Me" 62 

Bethany 64 

Good  Friday 68 

Woman's  Commission 71 

Day-Break 76 

Ascension  Day 79 

41  The  Lord  and  Giver  of  Life" 82 

II 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Hide  Me  .        .  * 86 

The  Love  of  God 89 

The  Cross 93 

In  Pain 95 

Holy  Communion 97 

The  Net 100 

Associations ••••.  102 

Night 105 

The  Sea-Shore 109 

Dying 111 

Waiting 112 

Paradise 114 

The  Redemption  of  the  Body 119 

Gathered  Flowers 123 

After  Dark 125 

Home .  128 

Uselessness 131 

Rest 134 

Offerings 136 

Weariness 138 

Good-Night 141 

Gone  Before 143 

Death 146 

Desolation 149 

Self-Dedication 153 

On  An  Infant's  Grave 155 

A  Little  While 156 

Thanksgiving 157 

Alpha 159 

Alpha  and  Omega 161 

Memorials 165 

Twilight 170 

12 


COXTENTS. 


TAGE 

On  the  Death  of  a  Child 172 

To    *    *    * 174 

His  Presence 177 

The  Past 180 

H.  L.  P 183 

In  Memoriam, — 

Satisfied 184 

Asleep 185 

Silence 186 

Here  and  There 187 

Sunset  and  Sunrise 189 

Crowned 192 

A  Fragment 194 

Missionary  Hymn 195 

u  Our  Light  Affliction  " 197 

Welcomed 198 

Alice ; 201 

M  Even  So,  Lord  Jesus  " 203 


appendix. 

The  Communion  of  the  Sick 207 

New-Blown  Flowers  on  All  Saints'  Morning       ....  209 

My  Window 211 

Holy  Matrimony 214 

A  Mother's  Prayer  for  Her  New-Born  Child     ....  216 

13 


(Dx&tt  tw  tTte  f  teitatiow  at  tto  $ith 


The  Almighty  Lord,  Who  is  a  most  strong  Tower 

to  all  them  that  put  their  trust  in  Him,  to  Whom  all 

things  in  Heaven,  in  Earth,  and  under  the  Earth, 

do  bow  and  obey,  be  now  and  evermore  thy  defense  ; 

and  make  thee  know  and  feel,  that  there  is  none 

other  Name  under  Heaven  given  to  Man,  in  Whom. 

and  through  Whom,  thou  mayest  receive  health  and 

Salvation,  but  only  the  Name  of  our  Lord  Jesus 

Christ.     Amen. 

14 


THE  NAME   OF  JESUS. 


AND 


OTHER     POEMS. 


%\xt  game  of  %zsus. 

ONE  Name  alone  in  all  this  death-struck  earth, 
One  Name  alone  come  down  from  highest  heaven, 
Whence  healing  and  salvation  we  receive, 
To  sinful  man  is  given. 

Name  brought  by  Gabriel  from  the  heart  of  God, 
And  laid  like  flower-seed  in  the  adoring  breast 
Of  her,  in  whom  the  mystery  was  wrought, 
And  God  made  manifest : 

O  Name  of  Jesus  ! — of  that  lowly  Babe 
That  on  the  sunny  slopes  of  Nazareth  strayed, 
Or,  calm  and  silent  on  the  cottage  floor, 
With  wild  flowers  played : 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS. 


Name  of  the  wondrous  Child,  that  in  the  temple  stood, 
With  brow  all  meekness,  and  with  eye  all  light, 
Who  to  the  blinded  teachers  of  the  Law 
Would  have  given  sight : 

Name  of  the  Prophet,  Healer,  Master,  Friend, 
Death's  mighty  Vanquisher,  and  sorrow's  Cure, 
The  Fountain  of  new  innocence  for  man, 
That  ever  shall  endure : 

The  secret,  the  unutterable  Name, 
From  the  world's  earlier  ages  hid  so  long, 
Now  in  time's  fullness  given  at  length  to  be 
The  new  creation's  song : 

And  yet  it  was  the  scorn  of  Jewish  lips, 
And  written  by  unholy  heathen  pen, 
Then  nailed  aloft  upon  the  awful  Cross, 
Signal  to  God  and  men ; 

But  never  written  in  the  dust  of  death, 
Nor  cut  upon  the  portals  of  the  grave, 
So  quickly  He  that  threshold  has  recrossed, 
Triumphantly  to  save. 
16 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS. 


It  dropped  from  Heaven  like- gently  falling  plume, 
Just  when  the  shadow  of  the  white  cloud  fell 
Upon  the  Apostles'  upward-turned  brows : 
"  O  wherefore  dwell, 

Ye  Galilaeans,  gazing  up  so  long 
Into  the  clear  blue  depths  ye  search  in  vain  ? 
Lo !  this  same  Jesus,  rising  to  His  Throne, 
Shall  so  return  again." 

Once  more  Heaven  sent  it  down  upon  the  earth, 
When  from  Love's  central  Fount  the  accents  came, 
And  on  the  persecuting  Saul  poured  down, 
In  glory  and  in  flame. 

O  Name  of  value  infinite  !  and  yet 
Thou  mov'st  our  spirits  with  a  deeper  thrill, 
For  the  dear  lips  that  have  Thy  music  breathed, 
And  then  grown  still. 

For  Thou  the  last  gift  art  our  lost  ones  leave, 
To  be  our  comfort  on  our  onward  way; 
"  Love  Jesus,"  "  Jesus  is  our  only  hope," 
Adoringly  they  say. 
17 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS. 


As  shipwrecked  sailors  grasp  an  oar,  and  launch 
Upon  the  billows  of  a  midnight  sea, 
These  fearless  souls,  embracing  "  Jesus,"  plunge 
Into  Eternity  : 

Then,  safely  floated  to  the  Home  of  peace, 
Where  the  bright  plumed  angels  throng  the  shore, 
Still,  still  the  Name  of  Jesus  those  glad  hosts 
In  anthems  pour. 

Name  that  the  ransomed  souls  forever  wear, 
Gemmed  with  pure  lustre  on  each  perfect  brow, 
Be  Thou  the  radiance  of  our  earthly  lives; 
Transform  us  even  now. 

O  Name  above  all  names  the  most  beloved ! 
Fullest  of  memories,  and  of  untold  peace, 
Earnest  of  all  unutterable  joys  !  — 

Yet,  fond  heart,  cease, 

For  Jesus  is  the  Name  of  the  High  God  :    • 

Hushed  be  thy  thoughts,  and  silently  adore ! 

When  thou  shalt  come  to  see  Him  as  He  is, 

Thou  shalt  know  more. 
18 


D 


JutIiuclUn0. 

RAW  nigh  unto  my  soul, 
O  Holiest,  draw  nigh ; 
For  I  have  wants  within,  which  Thou 
Alone  canst  satisfy  : 
O  deign  to  commune  with  me  as  I  kneel ; 
Thy  glory  in  my  inmost  soul  reveal. 

Thou  speakest  in  Thy  works ; 

But,  wondrous  though  they  be, 
They  have  no  voice  to  utter  forth, 
"  Jesus  has  died  for  me  :" 
They  show  Thy  goodness  and  Thy  power  divine, 
But,  oh !  they  can  not  tell  me  Thou  art  mine. 

Nor  is  it,  Lord,  enough 

To  see  Thine  image  glow, 
Reflected  in  Thy  chosen  ones 
Militant  here  below : 
Thyself  alone  can  satisfy  the  heart, 
Thou  art  the  only  friend  death  can  not  part. 

19 


IND  WELLING. 


Pleasant  it  is  to  stand 

Within  Thy  temples  fair, 
To  hear  Thy  ministers  proclaim, 
That  Thou  dost  meet  us  there ; — 
To  kneel  before  Thine  Altar  and  partake 
The  sacramental  food  for  Jesus'  sake. 

But  pain  and  death  will  come ; 

And  then,  O  God,  for  me 
Can  Anthem,  Litany,  and  Prayer 
In  aught  availing  be  ? 
The  melodies  that  float  through  choir  and  aisle, 
While  cold  in  dust  my  head  shall  rest  the  while  ? 

Draw  near  and  condescend 
To  take  up  Thine  abode 
Within  this  sinful  heart,  and  dwell, 
An  ever-present  God. 
Must  I  not  be  alone  with  Thee  at  last  ? 
Oh,  let  my  life  be  in  Thy  presence  passed. 

Father,  my  soul  would  be 

Like  a  transparent  haze, 

Through  which  Thy  Deity  should  pour 

Its  sanctifying  rays. 
20 


INDWELLING. 


Lord,  fill  me  with  Thy  fullness;  give  me  grace 
To  commune  with  Jehovah  face  to  face. 

Reveal  Thyself  e'en  now 

Within  that  inmost  bound, 
Where  the  Immortal  Essence  dwell 
In  solitude  profound ; 
Where  thought  is  lost,  and  strong  emotions  keep 
Their  ceaseless  watch  above  the  mystery  deep. 

Do  with  me  what  Thou  wilt, 

Low  at  Thy  feet  I  fall ; 
Absorb  me  in  Thyself;  be  Thou, 
Father,  my  all  in  all : 
Show  me  the  glorious  beauty  that  is  Thine, 
And  the  deep  lowliness  that  should  be  mine. 

21 


(Sort  0f  atl  gcruc  autl  gitvj, 

GOD  of  all  love  and  pity, 
Thy  children  gently  guide ; 
With  heavenly  food  supply  us, 
All  needful  good  provide. 

By  waters  still,  refresh  us, 

As  patiently  we  wait, 
Till  Thou,  the  Fount  of  brightness, 

Our  souls  illuminate. 

Our  wishes  and  affections, 
Our  impulses  and  powers, 

We  yield  unto  Thy  guidance ; 
For  they  are  Thine,  not  ours. 

Our  spirits  we  surrender, 

Our  purposes  resign, 

To  be  conformed  for  ever 

Unto  the  Will  Divine. 
22 


GOD  OF  ALL  LOVE  AND  PLTY. 


With  strong  attraction  draw  us 

Unto  Thyself  alone, 
0  King  of  Saints,  and  bring  us 

Unto  Thy  sapphire  throne. 

And  till  the  morning  dawneth 
For  each  tired  soul's  release, 

Sustain  us  with  the  brightness 
Of  Thine  own  perfect  peace. 

23 


O  AVIOUR  !  beneath  Thy  yoke 
^     My  wayward  heart  doth  pine, 
All  unaccustomed  to  the  stroke 
Of  love  divine : 
Thy  chastisements,  my  God,  are  hard  to  bear, 
Thy  cross  is  heavy  for  frail  flesh  to  wear. 

"  Perishing  child  of  clay  ! 

Thy  sighing  I  have  heard ; 
Long  have  I  marked  thy  evil  way, 
How  thou  hast  erred : 
Yet  fear  not ;  by  My  own  most  Holy  Name, 
I  will  shed  healing  through  thy  sin-sick  frame. 

Praise  to  Thee,  gracious  Lord ! 

I  fain  would  be  at  rest ; 
Oh  now  fulfill  Thy  faithful  word, 
And  make  me  blest f 
My  soul  would  lay  her  heavy  burden  down, 
And  take  with  joy  fulness  the  promised  crown. 

24 


THE   YOKE. 


"  Stay,  thou  short-sighted  child  : 
There  is  much  first  to  do ; 
Thy  heart,  so  long  by  sin  defiled, 
I  must  renew  : 
Thy  will  must  here  be  taught  to  bend  to  Mine, 
Or  the  sweet  peace  of  heaven  can  ne'er  be  thine." 

Yea,  Lord,  but  Thou  canst  soon 

Perfect  Thy  work  in  me, 
Till,  like  the  pure  calm  summer  moon, 
I  shine  by  Thee; 
A  moment  shine,  that  all  Thy  power  may  trace, 
Then  pass  in  silence  to  my  heavenly  place. 

M  Ah,  coward  soul !  confess 

Thou  shrinkest  from  My  cure, 
Thou  tremblest  at  the  sharp  distress 
Thou  must  endure ; 
The  foes  on  every  hand  for  war  arrayed, 
The  thorny  path  in  tribulation  laid. 

"  The  process  slow  of  years, 
The  discipline  of  life, — 
Of  outward  woes  and  secret  tears, 
Sickness  and  strife, — 
25 


THE   YOKE. 


The  idols  taken  from  thee  one  by  one, 
Till  thou  canst  dare  to  live  with  Me  alone. 

u  Some  gentle  souls  there  are, 
Who  yield  unto  My  love, 
Whom,  ripening  fast  beneath  My  care, 
I  soon  remove ; 
But  thou  stiff-necked  art,  and  hard  to  rule, 
Thou  must  stay  longer  in  affliction's  school:" 

My  Maker  and  my  King ! 
Is  this  Thy  love  to  me  ? 

0  that  I  had  the  lightning's  wing 
From  earth  to  flee ! 

How  can  I  bear  the  heavy  weight  of  woes 
Thine  indignation  on  Thy  creature  throws  ? 

"  Thou  canst  not,  O  My  child ; 
So  hear  My  voice  again : 

1  will  bear  all  thy  anguish  wild, 
Thy  grief — thy  pain  ; 

My  arms  shall  be  around  thee  day  by  day, 
My  smile  shall  cheer  thee  on  thy  heavenward  way. 

26 


THE   YOKE. 


"  In  sickness  I  will  be 

Watching  beside  thy  bed, 
In  sorrow  thou  shalt  lean  on  Me 
Thy  aching  head. 
In  every  struggle  thou  shalt  conqueror  prove, 
Nor  death  itself  shall  sever  from  My  love." 

O  grace  beyond  compare  ! 

0  love  most  high  and  pure ! 
Saviour,  begin,  no  longer  spare ! 

1  can  endure : 

Only  vouchsafe  Thy  grace,  that  I  may  live 
Unto  Thy  glory,  Who  canst  so  forgive. 

27 


WHntUcsUv  (Catttcttal, 

"\T7E  stood  beside  the  sculptured  screen, 
^  »      And  heard  the  holy  sound 
Of  music,  from  the  choir  within, 
Filling  the  silence  round. 


We  heard  it  rise  and  float  and  fall, 
Yet  could  not  catch  the  words, 

Which,  to  the  worshipers  within, 
Blent  with  those  solemn  chords. 

But  as  each  Psalm  drew  near  its  close, 
We  knew  that  they  would  raise, 

Unto  the  Lord  Omnipotent, 
Ascriptions  of  high  praise. 

Then  we,  too,  joined,  and  sang  aloud, 

"  Glory  to  God  most  high, 
The  Father,  Son,  and  Comforter, 

To  all  eternity  !  " 
28 


WINCHESTER  CATHEDRAL. 


And  thoughts  arose  of  those  we  love, 
Whose  footsteps  with  us  trod 

Along  the  path  of  life  awhile — 
Then  mounted  to  their  God. 

They  scaled  the  golden  steps  to  heaven, 

And  passed  the  inner  gate ; 
We  in  the  outer  Church  remain, 

Nor  understand  their  state. 

We  know  not  the  new  song  they  sing, 
Save  that  they  sometimes  cry, 
"  Unto  the  Lamb  that  once  was  slain 
Be  praise  and  majesty  !  " 

And  we  may  join — though  at  our  prayers 
On  earth  no  more  they  bend ; 

In  adoration  of  the  Lamb, 
Our  voices  still  can  blend. 

O  Thou  of  Whom  the  family 
In  heaven  and  earth  is  named, 

For  whom  such  joys  Thou  hast  prepared, 
That  Thou  art  not  ashamed 
29 


WINCHESTER  CATHEDRAL. 


To  call  us  "  brethren,"  and  to  let 
Our  souls  through  anguish  learn 

To  love,  as  Thou  dost,  patiently, 
Without  the  glad  return 

From  voice  of  answering  love,  without 
The  help  of  sense  or  sight : 

Sustain  us  when  we  faint  and  fail, 
Till  we  are  purged  quite 

From  all  alloy  of  earth  and  self — 

Till  we  are  meet  to  be 
Gathered  at  last  with  our  beloved, 

Thy  countenance  to  see. 

3° 


gxxbmission. 

THE  conflict,  Lord,  is  ended,  and  Thy  grace 
Hath  now  the  victory  won, 
And  taught  me  thankfully  to  say, 

u  Father,  Thy  Will  be  done." 

I  scarcely  understand  how  the  wild  storm 

Thus  suddenly  should  cease  ; 
How  the  long  buffeting  should  end 

In  unexpected  peace. 

Once  it  seemed  very  hard  that  Thou  shouldst  choose 

What  I  had  loved  the  most, 
To  make  me  say,  "  Thy  Will  be  done," 

At  such  a  bitter  cost. 

But  now  I  see  that  it  was  wisest  Love, 

Claiming  its  rightful  throne  : 
That  in  my  consecrated  heart 

Thou  mightest  reign  alone. 
3i 


SUBMISSION. 


My  soul  is  crowded  all  with  silent  thoughts, — 

A  hush  I  can  not  tell ; 
Like  the  strange  pauses  in  a  dream, 

One  motion  may  dispel. 

What  though  the  Future  with  its  unknown  depths 

Be  hidden  from  my  sight, 
I  know  that  its  untrodden  paths 

Lead  onward  into  light. 

Yes,  I  will  trust  Thee  :  Thou  didst  once  on  earth 

Carry  our  griefs  alone  ; 
Thou  soughtest  comforters  to  help, 

And  friends,  but  they  were  gone. 

Thou  knowest  all  my  need  :  upon  Thy  care 

I  utterly  depend  ; 
Thy  patience,  that  has  borne  the  past, 

Will  keep  me  to  the  end. 
32 


passing  Jteucc, 

THOU'RT  passing  hence,  O  pilgrim  soul ! 
Thy  mortal  vest  lay  down  ; 

Robe  thee  with  immortality 
And  glory  for  a  crown. 

O  lonely,  lonely  anchoret, 

Cloistered  in  Sorrow's  shrine, 

When  thou  dost  reach  thy  Father's  Court, 
What  welcome  shall  be  thine ! 

Though  gloomy  shadows  have  been  long 

Brooding  above  thy  tent, 
The  lovely  light  begins  to  dawn, 

The  night  is  almost  spent. 

What  though  thy  lamp  burn  fitfully, 

Flickering  high  and  low, 
It,  with  the  oil  of  gladness  filled, 

Again  in  heaven  shall  glow. 
33 


PASSING  HENCE. 


The  silver  cords  are  breaking  fast 
In  that  fond  lyre-like  heart, 

Yet  in  heaven's  glorious  melodies 
Its  music  shall  bear  part. 

Turn  up  the  hour-glass  yet  once  more, 
Swift  as  that  falling  sand, 

Thou'rt  passing  through  the  wilderness, 
Unto  the  Holy  Land. 

The  secret  cross  of  Baptism, 

Invisible  till  now, 
Is  turning  to  a  glory  star 

Upon  thy  dying  brow  : 

And  Hope,  endiademed  with  light, 
Holds  thee  unto  her  breast, 

While  Love,  with  her  angelic  wings, 
Is  folding  thee  to  rest. 

On  through  the  toilsome  desert  way 
Our  footsteps  still  must  roam, 

But  joy  to  thee,  Beloved  One, 
For  thou  art  going  home. 
34 


I 


(nxastiscttxcui 

HAVE  been  dumb,  and  held  my  peace, 

Because  the  stroke  was  Thine  :• 

When  Thou  dost  bare  Thy  holy  Arm, 

Omnipotent,  Divine, 
Shall  mortal  man,  corrupt  within, 

Complain  that  Thou  dost  visit  sin  ? 

Thou  didst  it,  Lord  !     This  sorrow  came. 

Obedient  to  Thy  Will : 
Thy  hands  have  made  me ;  Oh  !  in  wrath 
Remember  mercy  still. 
I  will  be  silent  at  Thy  awful  throne  ; 
Lord,  Thou  hast  fashioned  me  :  Thy  Will  be  done. 

Thou  didst  it ; — Thou  Whose  heart  of  love 
Was  wounded  first  for  me  : 

Thou  didst  endure  this  life,  and  bear 
Death's  deepest  agony. 
35 


CHASTISEMENT. 

How  can  I  murmur  or  complain, 
When  Jesus  suffered  grief  and  pain  ? 

Thou  didst  it ; — Who  art  watching  now 

Each  pang  and  heavy  sigh  : 
Yes,  I  submit,  if  only  Thou 

Wilt  hold  me,  and  stand  nigh  : 
I  will  not  struggle  with  the  knife 
That  wounds  me,  but  to  save  my  life. 

Thou  didst  it,  Who  art  gone  on  high, 

Where  many  mansions  be, 
There  to  prepare  a  glorious  Home, 
And  deathless  friends  for  me 
Shall  I  rebel  against  the  love, 
That  fits  me  for  my  Home  above  ? 

Ah,  no  !  e'en  through  this  load  of  fears, 

My  heart  is  springing  up, 
To  thank  Thee  for  the  boundless  grace, 
That  overflows  my  cup. 
But  I  am  weak,  and  can  not  always  say, 
*'  Thy  Will  be  done  :  "  remember  I  am  clay. 

36 


CHASTISEMENT. 


Put  a  new  song  within  my  lips, 
And  let  my  spirit  sing  : 
I  give  Thee  up  my  inmost  heart, 

Saviour,  and  Priest,  and  King ; 
Take  to  Thee,  there  at  least,  Thy  power,  and  reign  ; 
Henceforth,  "  to  live  is  Christ,  to  die  is  gain." 

37 


Rctvospcct 


h 


I  SOUGHT  to  praise  Thee,  but  my  heart 
Went  heavily  along  ; 
It  seemed  too  weak  with  sorrow's  smart, 
To  lift  itself  in  song. 

I  sought  to  count  Thy  mercies  o'er, 
To  view  them  one  by  one, 

But  sighed  o'er  what  may  be  no  more, 
Chief  blessings  that  are  gone. 

Till  I  am  brought  to  worship  now, 

E'en  for  this  very  grief; 
To  praise  the  mercy  with  which  Thou 

Hast  kept  back  all  relief. 

That  while  I  struggled  and  rebelled, 

Thou  didst  in  love  go  on 
Did'st  take  that  which  I  tightest  held, 

And  set  my  heart  upon. 

38 


RETROSPECT. 


That  Thou  didst  lead  me  into  gloom, 
Far  from  the  light  of  earth, 

To  show  me  it  was  but  a  tomb, 

And  death  my  better  birth. 

And  when,  enthralled  by  earth,  I  see 
Those  who  in  childhood's  days 

Gathered  the  buds  of  hope  with  me, — 
A  deep,  deep  thrill  of  praise 

Echoes  along  my  heart,  that  I 

Am  now  beside  Thy  Cross, 

Longing,  by  faith,  with  Thee  to  die, 
And  count  the  world  but  loss. 

Thus  in  Thy  presence  now  I  kneel, 
Filled  with  one  deep  desire  ; 

One  strong  ascending  hope  I  feel 
Glow  like  celestial  fire, 

That  Thou  wilt  unto  me  impart 
Thy  truth  on  every  side, 

To  pour  o'er  my  corrupted  heart 
Its  renovating  tide. 
39 


RETROSPECT. 


Hide  nothing  from  me  that  Thy  power 
Can  make  my  soul  to  know, 

And  from  that  knowledge  cause,  each  hour, 
A  holy  love  to  grow. 

O  draw  me  close  unto  Thy  breast, 
Close  as  my  soul  can  come, 

And  let  me  there  take  up  my  rest, 
In  my  eternal  Home. 
40 


gttc  gil#**m. 

PILGRIM,  where  goest  thou? 
"Unto  the  shrine 
And  presence  of  my  Lord,  a  Prince  Divine, 
And  wearily  upon  mine  arm  I  bear 
A  free-will  offering  to  meet  Him  there." 

Surely,  'tis  precious,  if  'tis  fit  to  bring 
Unto  so  mighty  and  so  rich  a  King. 
Tarry  a  moment,  let  me  look  within 

;  Upon  thy  treasure  : — why,  'tis  marred  by  sin  ! 

|  Here  is  a  bottle  almost  full  of  tears, 
Bundles  of  heartless  prayers,  and  faithless  fears, 
Talents  grown  rusty  with  long  lying  by  ; 
A  half-strung  harp,  whose  music  is  a  sigh  : 

!  Necklaces  strung  with  vows  that  once  were  fair, 
But  broken  now,  or  spent  in  empty  air ; 
Thoughts,  feelings,  passions,  all  with  evil  rife  : 
Neglected  duties,  and  a  wasted  life  : — 
All  that  is  here,  thy  Lord  will  surely  spurn, 
Except,  perchance,  this  little  closed  urn 

4i 


THE  PILGRIM. 


Of  Love  ;  yet  that  defiled  is,  and  small : 

0  hapless  Pilgrim,  this  is  not  thine  all  ? 

"  All,  gentle  Stranger ;  yet  I  do  not  fear 
But  that  my  Lord  will  in  His  mercy  hear 
My  earnest  prayer,  and  will  be  pleased  to  take 
This  worthless  offering,  for  His  own  dear  sake  : 
One  great  Oblation  on  His  Altar  lies, 
One  perfect  and  sufficient  Sacrifice ; 
And  for  the  sake  of  that  one  precious  Name, 
A  full  acceptance  now  all  suppliants  claim  : 

1  fain  would  give  my  heart,  but  it  hath  been 
Stolen  by  the  world  away,  and  so  my  Prince, 
Who  with  His  searching  eyes  the  theft  hath  seen, 
Hath  sent  to  me  His  gracious  Spirit  since 

To  say  that  He  the  wanderer  will  find, 
And  new  create  it  after  His  own  mind, 
Then  lay  it  on  His  Altar ;  there  to  be 
Filled  ever  with  the  oil  of  His  felicity." 

42 


M till  WXiiUvs. 

THOU  didst  despise  the  quiet  flow 
Of  day  succeeding  day, 
In  undisturbed  tranquillity 
Whiling  thy  life  away. 

A  home  was  thine,  all  calm  and  true, 

Bright  with  affection's  smile, 
But  after  earth's  magnificence 

Thy  proud  heart  yearned  the  while. 

Thou  didst  refuse  the  daily  round 

Of  useful  patient  love, 
And  longedst  for  some  great  emprise 

Thy  spirit  high  to  prove. 

Peace  had  been  thine,  couldst  thou  submit 

To  duty's  fixed  employ, 
But  thou  didst  turn  aside  to  weep 

For  overflowing  joy. 
43 


STILL  WATERS. 


So  a  change  came : — a  few  short  days, 
These  were  enough  to  bring 

A  shadow,  that  forever  took 

The  brightness  from  thy  spring. 


* 


Few  as  they  were,  they  were  enough 

To  bid  thy  rest  depart, 
To  wake  a  fountain  deep  and  strong 

Of  grief  within  thy  heart. 

Now  thou  hast  learnt  to  prize  the  flow 

Of  day  succeeding  day, 
In  undisturbed  tranquillity 

Whiling  thy  life  away. 

Thy  Future  now  is  not  on  earth  : 
Christ  teaches  thee  to  soar 

To  where  the  living  waters  glide 
On  an  eternal  shore. 

The  forms  of  beauty  and  of  power, 

That  here  thy  heart  controlled, 
Are  all  developed  for  thee  there, 

In  a  diviner  mould. 
44 


STILL  WATERS. 


When  meek  obedience  thou  hast  learnt, 

In  silence,  and  unknown, 
Thou  shalt  do  perfect  service  there, 

In  presence  of  the  Throne. 

The  joy  that  would  have  held  thy  soul 

Enchained  by  time  and  sense, 
With  Heaven's  high  interest  shall  be  given, 

Thy  lasting  recompense. 

Thou  shalt  be  changed :  *  a  few  short  days 

Will  be  enough  to  bring 
A  glory,  that  through  heart  and  flesh 

Shall  breathe  immortal  Spring. 


*  "We  shall  all  be  changed." — i  Cor.  xv.  51. 

45 


|l  (Contrast 

STEADFAST,  gentle,  self-forgetting, 
Patient,  tender,  brave,  and  wise, 
Bounteous  as  the  dew  of  morning, 

Nobly  free  from  all  disguise ; 
Thrilling  like  a  harp  responsive 

To  each  touch  of  lofty  thought, 
And  true-hearted  to  remember 

The  least  kindness  for  thee  wrought ; 
Brighter  and  more  ardent  spirit 

Never  on  this  fair  earth  trod ; 
Such  thou  art  amid  thy  fellows ; 

But,  oh,  what,  unto  thy  God  ? 

Cold  beneath  His  touch  as  marble, 
Dark  and  silent  as  the  grave, 

Careless,  selfish,  and  ungrateful, 
Scantly  serving  like  a  slave  ; 

Scorning  the  bare  thought  of  yielding 
Unto  Him  thy  heart,  thy  health, 
46 


A  CONTRAST. 


Grudgingly  and  meanly  giving 
Of  thy  time  and  of  thy  wealth ; 

Living  freely  on  His  riches 

As  thine  own,  by  night  and  day, 

And  yet  haughtily  refusing 
By  His  Will  to  rule  thy  way. 

Pause,  O  blinded,  and  consider 

How  it  is  these  things  can  be : 
Then  unto  thy  patient  Saviour 

Turn  thee,  on  low  bended  knee  : 
Tenderly  He  calls  and  seeks  thee, 

With  a  long  and  anxious  quest, 
Yearning  ever  to  enfold  thee 

Joyfully  unto  His  breast : 
Love  Eternal  for  thy  coldness 

Doth  not  from  the  search  depart, 
But  still  follows,  pleading  meekly, 

"Child  of  earth,  give  Me  thine  heart." 

From  His  glory  He  descended, 
For  thy  sins  to  mourn  and  die ; 

Then  from  out  the  grave  returning, 
He  ascended  to  the  sky ; 
47 


A  CONTRAST. 


Whence  He  poureth  out  His  Spirit, 

Offering  to  thee  gifts  untold  ; 
Of  these  marvels  now  thou  hearest 

With  unloving  heart  and  cold ! 
Noble,  gentle,  self-forgetting, 

In  earth's  best  affections  rife, 
There  is  yet  one  thing  thou  lackest- 

'Tis  the  Spirit's  breath  of  Life. 

48 


IN  the  white  robes  of  His  Priesthood, 
On  the  Mediator's  Throne, 
Christ  receives  each  one  who  cometh 
His  transgressions  there  to  own. 

Thou  must  meet  Him  in  the  Judgment, 
In  His  awful  power  arrayed ; 

To  Him  first,  as  Intercessor, 
Be  thine  inmost  life  displayed. 

E'en  to  half-reluctant  suppliants 
Meekly  He  inclines  His  ear, 

Catches  every  broken  utterance, 
Every  moving  pulse  of  fear. 

If  for  words  too  much  bewildered, 
If  thou  dare  not  seek  His  face, 

Silent  lay  thy  heart  before  Him, 
He  will  understand  its  case. 
49 


SELF- A  CCUSA  TIOX. 


Only  long  to  be  delivered 

From  each  remnant  of  disguise 
Only  let  Him  lay  in  ruins 

All  thy  refuges  of  lies ; 

Only  strive  to  say,  "My  Saviour/' 

As  thou  liest  at  His  feet ; 
He  can  from  thy  dust  and  ashes 

Spotless  holiness  complete. 

Through  the  new  strange  stillness  round  thee: 

Through  the  palpitating  air, 
A  new  dawn  will  steal  upon  thee ; 

How,  thou  canst  not  tell,  nor  where. 

Pierced  hands  will  touch  and  bless  thee, 
Words  descend  from  highest  heaven, 

Breathing  through  thy  heart's  recesses, 
"  O  My  child,  thou  art  forgiven  !  " 

50 


QiBKppolntmtuL 

A  LL  round  the  rolling  world,  both  night  and  day, 
^  *-  A  ceaseless  voice  ascends  from  those  who  pray  : 
"  Thy  Will  be  done  on  earth,  as  now  in  heaven; 
Unto  our  souls  a  perfect  choice  be  given." 


i  All  round  the  rolling  world,  both  night  and  day, 
A  ceaseless  answer  comes  to  those  who  pray : 
By  shattered  hopes,  crossed  plans,  and  fruitless  pains, 
Thy  heavenly  Master  thine  allegiance  trains. 

Guessing  some  portion  of  His  great  design, 
i  Thou  seek'st  to  forward  it  by  ways  of  thine : 
He  Who  the  whole  disposes  as  is  meet, 
Sees  a  necessity  for  thy  defeat. 

Yet  to  the  faithful  there  is  no  such  thing 
As  disappointment ;  failures  only  bring 
A  gentle  pang,  as  peacefully  they  say, 
■  "  His  purpose  stands  though  mine  has  passed  away." 

5i 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 


All  is  fulfilling,  all  is  working  still, 

To  teach  thee  flexibility  of  will ; 

To  great  achievements  let  thy  wishes  soar, 

Yet  meek  submission  pleases  Christ  still  more. 

When  Love's  long  discipline  is  overpast, 
Thy  will  too  shall  be  done,  with  His,  at  last, 
When  all  is  perfected,  and  thou  dost  stand, 
Robed,  crowned,  and  glorified  at  His  Right  Hand. 

52 


«  mptivitirtctTx  &ot" 

u  God  ....  upbraideth  not." — St.  James  i.  5. 

p  ECEIVE  me,  Lord  ;  to  Thee  I  fly, 
"     Defeated  and  dismayed, 
Thou  only  Refuge  from  the  sound 
Of  voices  that  upbraid  ! 

There  is  no  day,  from  out  the  past, 

But  has  its  bitter  cry, — 
No  friend,  but  I  may  sometime  read 

Reproaches  in  his  eye. 

E'en  those  for  whom  my  wealth  of  love 

Outran  their  utmost  need, 
Might  say,  "  Why,  with  intenser  prayer, 

For  me  didst  thou  not  plead  ?  " 

Nature,  through  every  changing  mood, 

Has  a  low  chiding  tone, 
Telling  of  uncompleted  works, 

And  of  occasions  flown. 
53 


"  UP  BRA  IDE  TH  NO  7V 


The  very  Father  of  all  lies 

Speaks  truth,  as  he  recalls 
Transgressions,  failings  numberless, 

Infirmities  and  falls. 

Conscience,  imperious  grown,  reproves 

The  evil  I  have  wrought  : 
My  wishes,  purposes,  and  life, 

Are  baser  than  I  thought. 

Exhausted  by  the  tumult  wild, 

And  overborne,  I  pine 
For  silence,  infinite  in  depth 

Of  tenderness  Divine. 

Against  Thee  only  have  I  sinhed, 

And  all  this  evil  done  ; 
Yet  Thou  alone  dcst  not  upbraid, 

O  meek  and  spotless  One  ! 

No  weak  reproaches  full  of  self 

Thou  makest  me  endure, 
For  stronger  even  than  my  sin 

Is  Thy  great  power  to  cure. 
54 


"UPBRAIDETH  NOT." 


Thou  wilt  do  all  I  have  undone, 
Re-make  what  I  have  marred, 

My  foolish  hindrances  the  while 
Wilt  gently  disregard  : 

And  when  Thy  work  is  all  complete, 
Then  Thou  wilt  call  it  mine, 

And  I  shall  hear  Thee  say,  "  Well  done  ! 
Henceforth  My  joy  is  thine." 

55 


%\xt  ^umtucittiiMi. 

QTRAIGHT  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord  of 
^  heaven 

The  Angel  Gabriel  speeds  upon  his  way, 
To  where,  beyond  the  mountains  of  Judaea, 

The  dwelling  of  a  Hebrew  maiden  lay  ; 
And  as  a  sunbeam  that  in  silence  steals, 
He  seeks  the  chamber  where  the  maiden  kneels. 

Silent  he  stands,  his  hand  a  lily  holding, 

That  through  the  air  celestial  fragrance  flings, 

Bright  figure,  and  soft  shadow,  showing  strangely 
Against  the  background  of  his  large  white  wings, 

His  head,  in  love  and  reverent  wonder  bent 

Towards  her,  for  whom  this  embassy  is  sent. 

The  morning  sunlight  lay  upon  her  forehead, 
The  morning  breezes  stirred  her  floating  hair; 

Her  earnest  eyes  were  raised  to  heaven,  as  seeking 
The  Object  of  her  deep  adoring  prayer — 

56 


THE  ANNUXCIA  TIOJV. 


The  unseen,  eternal,  and  immortal  King, 
Who  man's  lost  heritage  again  will  bring. 

Whom  will  He  send  to  earth  as  its  Deliverer, 
The  great  Messiah  of  the  chosen  race  ! 

When  will  the  tardy  hours  bring  round  His  Advent, 
What  mother  shall  receive  that  crowning  grace? 

When  will  the  strife,  the  wrong,  the  woe  be  past, 

And  David's  Son  ascend  His  throne  at  last  ? 

Hushed  is  the  prayer,  yet  the  fair  lips  are  parted 
In  deep  amazement  at  her  angel-guest, 

Whose  gleaming  presence  gently  dawns  upon  her  : — 
u  Hail,  Mary  !  thou  of  women  the  most  blest : 

God  will  redeem  the  promise  that  He  gave  ; 

His  Son  of  thee  takes  flesh,  the  world  to  save." 

Humbly  she  hears  the  thrilling  words  of  wonder, 
And  yields  herself  to  the  all-perfect  Will — 

His  only,  His  forever,  a  fair  temple 

Which  His  Divinity  doth  form  and  fill  : 

M  Behold,  I  am  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord  : 

So  let  it  be  according  to  Thy  word." 

57 


THE  ANNUNCIATION. 


Still  Mary  kneels  ;  for  over  soul  and  body 

The  o'ershadowing  grace  is  streaming  in  full  flow, 

While  deep  within,  beneath  her  heart's  quick  pulses, 
The  Life  of  heaven  and  earth  begins  to  glow  : 

And  He  by  Whom  all  wrongs  will  be  redrest, 

In  a  few  months  will  lie  upon  her  breast. 

O  Christ,  our  King  !  the  King  and  Son  of  Mary, 
Our   Champion,    Saviour,    Brother,    Priest,    and 
Friend  ! 

Teach  Thou  each  yearning  throb  of  hero-worship 
How  to  pass  on  to  Thee,  as  its  true  end  : 

Let  every  gleam  of  light  that  charms  our  eyes 

Lead  us  to  Thee,  from  Whom  it  took  its  rise. 

Over  these  hearts,  so  prone  to  harbor  idols, 
Let  the  o'ershadowing  grace  forever  stream, 

Until  the  Son  has  been  revealed  within  us — 
Our  Hope  of  glory,  and  its  fairest  dream  ; 

Until  we  know  Thee,  not  by  angel's  tongue, 

But  as  our  Life  of  life,  Whom  we  shall  see  ere  long. 

.  58 


HOME  of  the  Christ-child  at  Nazareth, 
Let  my  thoughts  within  thee  dwell ; 
There, — where,  shrouded  in  man's  weakness, 
Dwelleth  Light  Ineffable  ! 

Angels  circle  round  adoring, 

Watchful,  as  the  hours  go  by, 
As  the  mystery  advanceth 

Of  that  wondrous  Infancy. 

Cradled  by  a  human  Mother, 

Though  with  grace  Divine  imprest, 

Playing  with  soft  aimless  touches 
On  her  cheek  and  on  her  breast. 

In  the  water  from  the  fountain, 

'Mid  the  oleanders  wild, 
In  the  early  morn  and  evening, 

Mary  bathes  the  unsullied  Child. 
59 


THE  DIVINE  INFA.NCY. 


When  the  soft  blue  veins  show  clearer 
In  the  water's  liquid  gleam, 

Oh  !  how  little  thinks  that  Mother 
Of  the  pure  life-giving  stream, 

That  a  Gentile  spear  shall  open 
In  that  gracious,  tender  side, 

For  the  healing  of  the  nations, 
For  a  Covenant  world-wide. 

Joyfully  she  clothes  and  feeds  Him, 
And  she  trains  Him  day  by  day, 

Till  the  beautiful  Child  Jesus 

Has  been  taught  to  kneel  and  pray. 

Humbly  were  the  small  Hands  folded, 
Bended  was  the  golden  Head  : 

But  God  only,  in  the  heavens, 
Understood  the  prayer  He  said. 

For  of  all  the  cries  and  pleadings 
That  have  yet  ascended  there, 

None  has  ever  come  before  Him 
Mighty  as  that  Infant's  prayer  : 

'Twas  the  highest  act  of  homage 
That  the  world  had  ever  shown  ; 
60 


THE  DIVINE  INFANCY. 


And  the  purest  pulse  of  worship 
That  man's  heart  had  ever  known. 

Then  He  learned  to  be  obedient ; 

And  with  simple,  winning  grace, 
In  the  precincts  of  that  cottage 

He  has  filled  a  child's  true  place. 

And  the  name  at  which  Archangels 
Bow  adoring,  and  say  "  Lord," 

In  that  peasant-home  was  spoken, 
As  a  common  household  word. 

Saviour  !  by  Thy  cradle  kneeling, 
I  with  shame  my  pride  confess ; 

By  Thy  Holy  Incarnation 

Cleanse  me  from  its  bitterness. 

In  Thy  life  I  would  be  hidden  ; 

From  self-seeking  let  me  cease  ; 
Breathe  upon  me  from  Thy  Childhood 

Its  unutterable  peace. 

As  my  spirit  ripens  onwards, 
Let  it  take  the  mould  of  Thine  ; 

In  Thy  lowliness  abiding, 
In  an  infancy  divine. 
61 


WT 


5t*  fetid  *tts  gawd  wpou  &Xt." 

LAY  Thy  Hand  upon  me 
When  I  fall  asleep, 
Through  the  silent  hours 
Close  beside  me  keep  ; 
Then  the  Prince  of  Darkness, 

Ruler  of  the  air, 
Will  not  dare  to  touch  me, 
If  Thy  Hand  is  there. 

Lay  Thy  Hand  upon  me, 

Tenderly  restrain 
All  too  eager  longings, 

Every  impulse  vain  : 
Calm  my  spirit's  chafing, 

Restless  with  long  care  ; 
Murmurs  melt  in  silence 

When  Thy  Hand  is  there. 

Lay  Thy  Hand  upon  me, 

When  I  rashly  stray 

62 


"HE  LAID  HIS  HAND  UPON  ME." 

Into  paths  forbidden, 
Choosing  my  own  way. 

Ah  !  how  much  correction, 
Lord,  I  have  to  bear, 

Yet  must  take  it  meekly, 
For  Thy  Hand  is  there. 

Thou  didst  lead  a  blind  man 

In  thine  earthly  days, 
Led  him  long  and  gently, 

Showed  him  light's  pure  rays  : 
Oh  !  through  all  life's  journey, 

To  its  furthest  strand, 
Surely  he  remembered 

How  he  clasped  that  Hand. 

Lead  me  now  and  always, 

Even  to  the  last, 
Till  the  way  is  ended, 

And  the  darkness  past : 
Till  I  reach  the  glory 

I  was  born  to  share — 
This  its  crown  and  centre, 

That  my  Lord  is  there. 
6* 


SIX  days  before  the  Passover, 
The  blessed  Saviour  came 
To  Bethany,  where  He  remained 

Until  His  hour  of  shame  ; 
His  last  abode  was  in  the  home 

Of  Lazarus,  His  friend  ; 
Those  He  had  loved  while  in  the  world 
He  loved  unto  the  end. 


The  shadow  of  the  Passion  lay 

Brooding  on  all  around, 
Though  what  it  meant  they  could  not  know, 

Its  depth  was  too  profound 
For  mortal  eye  to  search  it  out, — 

Though  woman's  love  might  see 
Further  than  most  into  the  cloud 

Of  that  great  mystery.* 


*  St.  Matthew  xxvi.  12. 

64 


BETHANY. 


His  sacred  Heart  in  its  lone  depths 

Was  heaving  at  the  thought, 
That  human  nature's  perfectness 

Through  suffering  must  be  wrought. 
And  yet  He  set  His  face  to  go 

With  firm  endurance  on, 
And  rose  above  the  nature  weak 

That  clothed  the  Eternal  Son. 

And  He  did  then  for  evermore 

That  form  of  trial  bless, 
If  only  sinking  hearts  to  Him 

Will  turn  in  their  distress  ; 
One  ray  of  glory  in  the  crown 

That  on  His  brows  is  set, 
Is  drawn  from  those  deep  pangs  of  Fear 

He  never  can  forget. 

Not  for  Himself  alone  He  fears : 

That  all-foreseeing  Eye 
Distinguishes  each  single  throb 

Of  human  agony. 
He  wept  o'er  every  closing  grave 

Unto  the  end  of  time  ; 

65 


BETHANY. 


His  soul  drank  in  the  rising  swell 
Of  Sorrow's  awful  chime. 

He  took  full  measure  of  the  grief 

Of  every  separate  saint, 
As,  one  by  one,  each  on  his  cross 

Must  tremble  and  grow  faint ; 
He  knew,  though  He  had  given  them  rest, 

They  first  must  find  sore  strife, 
Must  seek  e'en  through  the  gates  of  Death 

His  promised  gift  of  Life. 

Yet  even  then  His  joy  arose, 

Forever  to  increase, 
In  knowing  that  this  suffering  host 

Would  find  in  Him  their  peace  ; 
The  travail  of  His  soul  might  bow 

That  sacred  Head  to  earth, 
Yet  He  is  satisfied  to  see 

The  new  Creation's  birth. 

He  feels  the  presence  of  meek  love 

Already  at  His  side, 
The  gentle  ones  who  cling  to  Him, 

And  breast  the  world's  strong  tide ; 
66 


BETHANY. 


He  sees  the  eyes  that  to  Him  turn, 
The  hands  that  seek  His  own, 

Those  who,  in  sharpest  discipline, 
Trust  Him,  and  Him  alone. 

Apostles,  Martyrs,  the  long  line 

Of  royal,  warrior  souls, 
Flash  on  Him  their  triumphant  smiles 

From  where  the  Future  rolls  ; 
The  white-robed  multitude,  whom  none 

Can  number  or  declare, 
Waft  Him  their  floating  voice  of  praise 

Already  on  the  air. 

Lord  !  since  our  griefs  on  Thee  were  laid, 

And  Thou  hast  felt  their  sting, 
Help  us  in  holiest  calm  to  take 

Our  turn  of  suffering  ; 
Thou  didst  look  on  unto  Thy  joy, 

And  so  by  grace  will  we, 
But  we  would  clasp  Thy  Cross,  and  feel 

We  owe  that  joy  to  Thee. 

67 


(6oo&  l^dtTatj* 

COLD  as  the  snow 
On  mountain  range, 
That  all  the  summer's  glow 

Can  never  change, 
My  heart  remains, 

E'en  while  I  kneel, 
And  muse  upon  those  pains 
Which  Thou  didst  feel ! 

A  dim  amaze, 

A  dull,  dead  woe, 
As  on  thy  Cross  I  gaze, 

Seems  all  I  know. 
O  could  I  be 

Contrite  indeed  ! 
Could  I  but  truly  see 

I  made  Thee  bleed  ! 

O  Lamb  of  God  ! 

O  Crucified  ! 
68 


GOOD  FRIDA  Y. 


Down  on  the  blood-stained  sod 

My  face  I  hide. 
I  can  not  take 

The  mystery  in  ; 
But,  Saviour,  let  it  make 

Me  free  from  sin  ! 

Free  from  its  guilt, — 

Yes,  that  I  know  : 
Thy  blood,  that  there  was  spilt, 

Doth  overflow 
The  whole  world's  sin  ; — 

Atones  for  all  : 
But  here,  here,  deep  within, 

Let  Thy  blood  fall ! 

Upon  these  stains,— 

This  feeble  will, 
These  paralyzing  chains 

Of  former  ill  : 
And  if  not  yet 

My  tears  o'erflow, 
O  make  me  sternly  set 

Sin  to  forego  ! — 
69 


GOOD  FRIDA  Y. 


All  doubtful  things, 

Soft,  subtle  snares, 
To  which  the  weak  soul  clings, 

Andv  clinging,  shares 
The  Serpent's  heart, 

That  feeds  on  dust, 
And  does  the  Serpent's  part, — 

Betrays  the  Just. 

Lord,  I  am  Thine  : 

Let  this  Thy  Cross 
Evermore  keenly  shine 

O'er  gain  and  loss  ! 
For  it  must  win 

My  heart,  my  all  : 
Oh  !  deeper  yet  within, 

Let  Thy  blood  fall ! 
70 


actio  man's  Commission. 

St.  John  xx.  17. 

WHEN,  upon  Easter  morn, 
The  risen  Saviour  came 
To  Mary,  as  she  kept 
Beside  His  grave,  and  wept, 
He  called  her  name. 

Without  one  shade  of  doubt, 
Her  heart  replied,  "  My  Lord  !  " 

The  mystery  received, 

Of  Life  through  Death  achieved, 
Her  faith  adored. 

Unto  that  perfect  faith 

Christ  gave  at  once  employ ; 
Not  to  embrace  His  feet, 
In  trance  of  rapture  sweet, 
But — nobler  joy  ! — 
7i 


WOMAN'S  COMMISSION. 


To  publish  the  great  fruits 
Self-sacrifice  had  borne — 

Christ  risen,  rising  still ; 

Proclaiming,  by  His  Will, 
To  hearts  that  mourn  : 

"  Go,  say  that  I  ascend, 

Unto  My  Father's  throne — 
My  Father,  and  My  God, 
Your  Father,  and  Your  God  : 
Not  Mine  alone." 

O  Woman,  take  thy  stand 

Upon  this  high  position, 
And  faithfully  hand  on 
Till  Death  itself  is  gone, 
This  great  Commission. 

The  Apostolic  Line 

No  higher  message  bear; 

They  who  the  world  must  roam, 

And  thou,  within  thy  home, 

One  glory  share. 
72 


WOMAN'S  COMMISSION. 


Teach  it  thy  brother's  soul, 

By  full  unselfish  love, 
By  consecrated  youth, 
By  lips  of  stainless  truth, 

Hopes  fixed  above. 

Throned  on  thy  husband's  heart, 

Whisper  the  message  there ; 
And  let  him  all  around, 
Within  home's  guarded  bound, 
Breathe  heavenly  air. 

And  let  the  risen  life 

Beating  within  thy  breast, 

Cradle  the  sleeping  boy, 

In  a  deep  hush  of  joy, 
Laid  there  to  rest. 

Yea,  teach  the  saving  truth 

To  every  son  of  thine, 
His  passions  to  control, 
To  waken  in  his  soul 

The  Life  Divine. 
73 


WOMAN'S  COMMISSION. 


And  lonely  ones  as  well, 
With  all  your  untold  store 

Of  love  still  garnered  in  ; 

To  spend  it,  O  begin  ! 
Give  Christ  your  store. 

Wherever  human  hearts, 

In  high  or  low  estate, 
Waste  upon  earth  and  sense 
Hopes  that  should  soar  from  thence, 

Your  work  doth  wait. 

Behold,  it  lies  outspread  ; 

In  Christ's  strength  then  arise; 
Fix  on  the  misery  round, 
The  sin  that  doth  abound, 

Pure,  fearless  eyes. 

To  you  the  Voice  still  speaks : 

"  Go,  say  that  I  ascend 
Unto  My  Father's  throne 
(Yours,  and  not  Mine  alone), 

His  Gift  to  send." 
74 


WOMAN'S  COMMISSION-. 


O  Woman  !  then  work  on 
Beneath  thy  Saviour's  eyes 

Thy  joy  is  yet  to  come ; 

Thy  peaceful  perfect  Home 
Is  in  the  skies. 

75 


St.  John  xxi. 

n^HE  night  is  dark,  and  this  long  toil 
*      Not  yet  has  reached  its  close  : 
Faint  and  disheartened,  my  soul  longs 
For  light  and  for  repose. 

The  heaving  sea,  the  moaning  wind, 

They  toss  me  to  and  fro ; 
My  net  hath  swept  all  round  my  bark, 

But  yet  no  spoil  I  show. 

The  past  possesses  me  : — my  sins 

In  all  their  shame  appear ; 
Ungrateful,  cowardly,  and  vain, 

Myself  I  hate  and  fear. 

Shall  I  be  always  thus,  and  fall, 

When  highest  good  I  seek, 
With  love  so  passionately  strong, 

Yet  treacherously  weak  ? 

76 


DA  Y-BREAK. 


He  knows  my  love ;  He  has  forgiven  : 

But  can  He  make  me  whole  ? 
He  raised  the  dead,  but  can  He  give 

Life  to  a  dying  soul  ? 

It  seems  a  dream,  that  He  has  been 

Once  more  amongst  His  own, 
That  we  have  heard  Him  breathing  Peace, 

In  that  familiar  tone. 

Then  is  there  conquest  over  death, 

And  victory  o'er  the  grave  ? 
And  will  He  henceforth  have  all  power 

In  heaven  and  earth  to  save  ? 

O  that  I  knew  where  I  might  find 

His  place  of  dwelling  now, 
And,  kneeling  under  those  pierced  Hands, 

Renew  each  broken  vow  ! 

He  draws  me,  wins  me;  I  am  His; 

Yes,  His  whom  I  denied ! 
Perchance  He  yet  may  let  me  dare, 

And  suffer,  at  His  side. 
77 


DA  Y-BREAK. 


These  baffling  mists  and  blinding  spray 

Hang  cold  upon  my  brow  ; 
Yet  the  day  breaks,  the  shadows  fall 

Outstretched  behind  me  now. 

And  dimly  on  the  distant  strand, 
Just  touched  with  morning  light, 

I  see  a  Form — now  half  revealed, 
Now  shrouded  from  the  sight. 

There  is  a  banquet  on  that  shore; 

A  voice  says,  "  Come  and  dine ; 
Yea,  feed  on  Me,  and  fill  at  last 

That  longing  heart  of  thine." 

The  yearning  deepens,  strengthens,  swells ; 

Success  can  not  beguile ; 
That  which  through  life  I've  toiled  to  win, 

Seems  worthless,  by  His  smile. 

I  come,  I  come — though  cold  the  waves, 
Though  steep  the  shore  may  be ; 

I  come — from  earth,  from  death,  from  self, 
To  be  made  one  with  Thee. 

78 


Ascension  Q<x\i> 

AT  the  Name  of  Jesus 
Every  knee  shall  bow, 
Every  tongue  confess  Him, 

King  of  Glory  now. 
,rTis  the  Father's  pleasure 

We  should  call  Him  Lord, 
Who  from  the  beginning 
Was  the  mighty  Word. 

Mighty  and  mysterious, 

In  the  highest  height, 
God  from  Everlasting, 

Very  Light  of  Light ! 
In  the  Father's  bosom, 

With  the  Spirit  blest, 
Love,  in  Love  Eternal, 

Rest,  in  perfect  rest. 

At  His  voice,  Creation 
Sprang  at  once  to  sight, 
79 


ASCENSION  DAY. 


All  the  angel  faces, 

All  the  hosts  of  light ; 
Thrones  and  dominations, 

Stars  upon  their  way, 
All  the  Heavenly  orders, 

In  their  great  array. 

Humbled  for  a  season, 

To  receive  a  Name 
From  the  lips  of  sinners. 

Amongst  whom  He  came; 
Faithfully  He  bore  it, 

Spotless  to  the  last, 
Brought  it  back  victorious, 

When  from  death  He  passed. 

Bore  it  up  triumphant, 

With  its  human  light, 
Through  all  ranks  of  creatures, 

To  the  central  height; 
To  the  Throne  of  Godhead, 

To  the  Father's  breast, 
Filled  it  with  the  glory 

Of  that  perfect  rest. 

Name  Him,  brothers,  name  Him, 
With  love  as  strong  as  death, 
80 


ASCENSION  DAY. 


But  humbly  and  with  wonder, 
And  with  bated  breath  : 

He  is  God  the  Saviour, 
He  is  Christ  the  Lord, 

Ever  to  be  worshiped, 
Trusted,  and  adored. 

In  your  hearts  enthrone  Him 

There  let  Him  subdue 
All  that  is  not  holy, 

All  that  is  not  true. 
Crown  Him  as  your  Captain, 

In  temptation's  hour; 
Let  His  Will  enfold  you 

In  its  light  and  power. 

Brothers,  this  Lord  Jesus 

Shall  return  again, 
With  His  Father's  glory, 

With  His  angel  train  : 
For  all  wreaths  of  empire 

Meet  upon  His  brow, 
And  our  hearts  confess  Him, 

King  of  Glory  now. 
81 


«%\xt  %oxdi  ixml  <5iucv  of  %iit." 

"  No  man  can  say  that  Jesus  is  the  Lord,  but  by  the 
Holy  Ghost." — I  Cor.  xii.  3. 

JESUS,  our  Lord  and  King  !     Ah  !  pause  and  see 
Whose  power  it  is  by  which  we  homage  give : 
For  Pilate  wrote  upon  the  accursed  tree 
In  royal  style,  that  Name  by  which  we  live. 

Are  there  not  Pilates  evermore,  who  say 

"  Lord,  Lord,"  and  crave  to  see  some  deed  of  might, 

Who  will  not  learn  His  Will,  nor  yet  obey, 
But  crucify  the  silent  Lord  of  Light  ? 

Those  blessed  Feet  that  walked  Gennesaret's  waves, 

Soon  after  trod  the  blue  elastic  air, 
And  mounted  where  the  sapphire  glory  paves 

The  Throne  which  He  will  worship  now,  and  share. 

But  who  shall  comfort,  now  that  He  is  gone, 

And  keep  in  our  remembrance  what  He  taught ; 

Moulding  our  acts  as  He  would  have  them  done, 

Cleansing  the  springs  of  action  and  of  thought? 

82 


"THE  LORD  AJVD  GIVER  OF  LIFE." 

Ten  days  passed  on  before  the  answer  came, 
Ten  slow  expectant  days,  of  ceaseless  prayer; 

Then  a  swift  rushing  wind,  and  tongues  of  flame, 
The  Presence  of  an  unseen  Power  declare. 

He  Who  of  old  within  the  triple  Life 

Of  the  Eternal  Godhead  moved  and  wrought, 

And  from  earth's  darkness,  and  chaotic  strife, 
A  world  of  perfect  good  and  order  brought ; — 

He  who  by  perfect  fellowship  abode 
In  the  Humanity  of  God's  own  Son, — 

From  Heaven  descends,  mysteriously  endowed 
With  power  to  help  and  heal  us,  one  by  one. 

He  is  the  Spirit  of  the  Son  indeed, 

Co-equal  in  humility  and  love, 
In  that  strong  patience,  which  can  mourn  and  bleed, 

But  never,  from  the  soul  it  loves,  remove. 

For  eighteen  hundred  years  has  He  remained, 
Quickening,  transforming,  working  as  He  will ; 

Quenched,  scorned,  forgotten,  limited,  and  pained, 
He,  in  His  meekness,  lingers  with  us  still. 

83 


"  THE  LORD  AND   GIVER   OF  LIFE!' 

All  growth  in  wisdom,  all  pure  love's  increase, 
All  noble  daring,  and  endurance  meek, 

All  battles  for  the  truth,  all  sighs  for  peace, 
The  presence  of  the  Comforter  bespeak. 

We  seem  divided,  scattered,  and  alone ; 

The  tranquil  heavens  with  sounds  of  discord  ring  : 
Meanwhile  He  binds  us  all  and  every  one, 

In  bands  of  growing  union,  to  our  King. 

We  pray  for  holiness,  then  deeply  sin  ; 

Now  we  presume,  then  angrily  despair  : 
He  bears  our  willfulness  ;  He  pleads  within, 

Unuttered  moans,  that  never  thrill  the  air. 

His  Breath,  too,  stirs  all  prayer,  that  doth  rejoice 
To  rise  like  incense  to  the  central  Sun  ; 

All  praise  is  the  intoning  of  His  Voice, 
Swelling  from  whispers  in  the  heart  begun. 

O  Spirit  of  our  spirit,  Life's  pure  Fount  ! 

True  Friend  of  the  true  Bridegroom  whom  we  wait ; 
Reveal  Him  clearer  to  our  souls,  that  mount 

With  keen  expectance  towards  their  promised  state. 

84 


"THE  LORD  AND  GIVER  OF  LIFE." 


Tis  not  enough  that  He  our  place  prepares, 
With  beauty  infinite  adorns  our  Home, 

And  by  the  power  of  His  unceasing  prayers 

Prevails,  that  those  He  loves  shall  thither  come. 

We  would  be  like  Him,  Whom  we  call  our  Lord, 
We  would  reflect  the  Image  that  we  love : 

O  chasten  our  whole  being,  to  accord 

With  the  deep  tides  of  life  that  in  Him  move ! 

Thou  gracious  Spirit !  Comforter  most  meek  ! 

As  Christ  His  glory  veiled  in  flesh  of  man, 
So  Thou  Thy  Godhead  dost  conceal,  in  weak 

Blind  spirits,  who  Thy  working  can  not  scan. 

But  when  He  comes  for  Whom  we  hourly  pray, 
And  we  are  one  with  Him,  in  heart  and  mind, 

He  will  unfold  to  us  the  wondrous  way 

In  which  Thy  Love,  and  His,  for  us  combined. 

Till  then,  we  yield  ourselves  in  deepest  trust, 
Into  Thy  hands,  their  impress  to  receive ; 

We  would  adore  Thee,  humbled  to  the  dust : 
O  Holy  Ghost,  we  do  in  Thee  believe. 

85 


» 


MitXc   pi*. 

HIDE  me,  Lord,  for  I  am  weary, 
Weary  of  the  world's  hard  ways; 
Of  its  foolish  blame  and  wonder, 
Of  its  yet  more  foolish  praise. 

Men  will  judge  with  blind  half  knowledge, 
Though  Christ  said,  "  Judge  not  at  all : ' 

Let  Thy  glance  of  perfect  insight 
Now  upon  my  spirit  fall. 

Men  must  work  with  noise  and  clamor ; 

Thou  dost  work  in  silence  sweet : 
For  awhile  Thou  hast  withdrawn  me, 

To  lie  quiet  at  Thy  feet. 

Hide  me  from  the  mists  of  error, 

In  my  own  vain  heart  that  rise ; 

From  its  fears  and  perturbations, 

From  its  selfishness  and  lies. 
86 


HIDE  ME. 


Hide  me  in  the  time  of  sorrow, 
When  each  nerve  is  on  the  strain ; 

Compass  me  with  loving-kindness, 
When  Thou  scourgest  me  with  pain. 

Hide  me  from  the  craft  of  Satan, 
From  his  kindling  breath  of  flame, 

From  his  arrowy  temptations, 
Sent  with  an  unerring  aim. 

Be  Thou  close  at  hand  to  hide  me 
When  the  hour  of  death  draws  near ; 

When  I  tremble  to  be  parted 

From  the  flesh,  that  veils  me  here. 

Hide  me,  in  Thy  mercy  hide  me, 
Till  I  once  have  seen  Thy  Face ; 

Then,  my  Saviour,  then  unveil  me, 
As  a  faultless  work  of  grace. 

In  the  presence  of  Thy  glory, 

Safe  forever  at  Thy  feet, 
I,  at  last,  shall  hold  communion 

With  the  souls  I  yearn  to  greet. 

87 


HIDE  ME. 


0  what  joyful  revelations 

Of  enduring,  patient  Love  ! 
0  what  infinite  expansion 

The  long-guarded  heart  shall  prove ! 

Blending,  melting,  in  each  other, 
Without  let,  or  thought  of  fear ; 

All  the  hindrances  there  vanished 
Utterly,  that  hold  us  here. 

With  full  insight  understanding 
Thy  great  work  within  each  soul, 

New  varieties  of  glory 
Every  history  will  unroll. 

Soaring  through  the  golden  ether, 
Piercing  it  like  shafts  of  flame, 

Rise  the  notes  of  adoration 

To  the  Source  from  whence  they  came. 

As  the  Prayer  of  prayers  is  answered, 
"I  in  them,  and  Thou  in  Me;"* 

Perfect  all,  in  One,  forever — 
Trinity  in  Unity. 


St.  John  xvii.  23. 

SS 


glxe  %ovc  of  (Sail. 

GO  back  to  the  beginning, 
And  then  back  earlier  still ; 
Trace  the  first  forms  of  being, 

In  the  Creator's  Will ; 
And  find  there  thine  own  image, 

What  thou  wast  meant  to  be ; 
Conceive  of  the  perfection 
Which  He  designed  for  thee. 

From  out  the  Life  Eternal 

Time  sprang  forth  as  a  stream, 
Time  rolling  ever  onwards, 

Thy  life  begins  to  gleam  : 
Where  now  is  that  fair  image 

That  lay  in  God's  deep  thought? 
Behold  it,  marred  and  altered ; 

Behold  what  thou  hast  wrought ! 

O  weak,  and  false,  and  willful! 

O  cold,  and  stubborn  heart ! 
Self-centered,  and  self-seeking, 

Neglecting  thy  true  part 
89 


THE  LOVE  OF  GOD. 


In  the  well-ordered  working 
Of  God's  unerring  ways; 

Thy  origin  forgetting, 
The  purpose  of  thy  days. 

Who  now  shall  find  a  healing 

For  this  deep-seated  ill, 
And  who  shall  bend  and  strengthen 

This  weak  and  crooked  will  ? 
Who  grapple  with  the  darkness 

And  agonies,  that  lie 
Hid  in  the  righteous  sentence, 

"  The  soul  that  sins  shall  die  ?  M 

Love  now  has  changed  its  action, 

And  suffering  and  decay 
Brought  in  among  the  creatures 

Who  wandered  their  own  way ; 
Love  hides  itself  in  sorrow, 

Draws  us  with  links  of  pain, 
And  wearies  us  with  sadness 

To  drive  us  home  again. 

Look  back  along  the  ages; 

Behold  on  Calvary's  crest 
90 


THE  LOVE  OF  GOD. 


Thy  crucified  Creator — 
Thy  God,  by  sin  opprest — 

Seeking  His  lost  Creation, 

The  souls  whom  He  had  made  : 

He  came  as  Man  among  us, 
And  was  by  man  betrayed. 

The  sins  of  all  the  sinful 

Were  heaped  upon  His  Head, 
As  He,  on  that  high  Altar, 

In  expiation  bled, 
And  reconciled  the  creatures 

To  Him  who  loved  them  still, 
And  offered  to  the  Father 

A  faultless  human  Will. 

0  Holy,  Holy,  Holy, 

I  flee  unto  Thy  breast ; 
Upon  its  stainless  justice 

Let  a  lost  sinner  rest ! 
By  Mystery  o'ershadowed, 

By  boundless  Love  constrained, 

1  yield  myself  adoring, 

For  glory  to  be  trained. 

Now  Thou  art  in  my  nature, 
More  mine,  than  is  my  sin, 
9i 


THE  LOVE  OF  GOD. 


Fulfill  me  with  Thy  Presence, 
And  make  all  new  within  ! 

Let  body,  soul,  and  spirit, 
Be  so  indwelt  by  Thee, 

That  of  Thy  life  within  me 
They  may  the  organs  be. 

Then,  through  a  few  more  struggles, 

Through  a  few  dying  years, 
From  weakness,  pain,  and  darkness, 

From  loneliness  and  tears, 
From  doubts  and  deep  abasement, 

Perplexities  and  loss, 
Forebodings,  sinkings,  anguish, 

Faint  shadows  of  Thy  Cross, — 

Lead  me  to  Thy  great  Future, — 

To  my  appointed  place, 
In  Thine  accomplished  purpose 

Of  Glory  and  of  Grace  ; 
In  Thy  renewed  creation, 

Brighter  than  ere  its  fall, 
Where  Thou  wilt  reign  forever, 

And  Love  be  all  in  all. 


92 


SINK  in,  thou  blessed  sign ! 
Pass  all  my  spirit  through, 
And  sever  with  thy  sacred  touch 
The  hollow  from  the  true. 

Sorrow  shall  wear  thy  badge, 

As  her  fair  sign  of  hope  ; 
No  self-indulgent  voice  may  say 

That  grief  must  have  full  scope. 

Sickness  shall  own  thy  sway, 

With  steadfast  patient  eye, 
Thoughtful  for  others,  who  must  bear 

The  weight  of  sympathy. 

Thou  shalt  restrain  my  soul 

'Mid  the  world's  tempting  gloss : 

Schemes,  wishes,  memories,  all  must  feel 
The  burden  of  the  Cross. 

The  understanding  high 

Shall  bow  beneath  thy  might, 
93 


THE  CROSS. 


Relinquishing  its  vain  attempt 
To  gauge  the  Infinite. 

Through  my  heart's  very  ground 
Thy  plowshare  must  be  driven  ; 

Till  all  are  better  loved  than  self, 
And  yet  loved  less  than  Heaven. 

And  my  impatient  will 

Under  thy  yoke  shall  learn, 
How  to  be  constant  to  one  end, 

Yet  yield  at  every  turn. 

On  vanity  and  sin 

Stamp  thy  broad  bars  of  shame  : 
High  was  my  birth-right,  but  my  life 

Deserves  no  meed  but  blame. 

Draw  thy  clear  cutting  lines 

In  scorn  above  my  pride, 
And  keep  me,  with  meek  wounded  heart, 

Close  to  the  Crucified. 

Oh,  can  it,  must  it  be, 

That  thou  wilt  rule  all  thus? 

The  Cross  to  Jesus  was  no  dream  : 
Shall  it  be  so  to  us? 
94 


%xt  gain. 

BY  Thine  anguish  cleanse  my  soul, 
By  Thy  Passion  make  me  whole ; 
Weak  and  helpless  on  the  Tree, 
Thou  didst  gain  the  victory : 
Weak  and  helpless  as  I  lie, 
Thou  canst  triumph,  sin  can  die. 

Search  me  through,  and  nothing  spare, 

Burn  the  sin  out  that  is  there. 

All  that  is  of  Thine  and  Thee 

Quicken  into  energy. 

Let  Thy  Love  enlarge  my  heart, 

Deepen,  soften  every  part. 

In  the  silence  deep  and  still, 
Bind  me  closer  to  Thy  Will ; 
Earthly  friends  are  far  away, 
Be  Thou  with  me  night  and  day : 
95 


IN  PAIN. 


Earthly  happiness  I  miss, 

Make  me  conscious  of  Heaven's  bliss. 

Teach  me  how  to  guess  aright, 
Of  the  wonders  out  of  sight : 
Let  my  spirit  grow  more  clear, 
Heavenly  whispers  let  me  hear : 
Let  the  veil  become  more  thin, 
And  the  glory  pierce  within. 

Make  me  pure,  that  I  may  be 
Able  to  be  one  with  Thee, 
And  reveal  Thyself,  for  Thou 
Art  the  thing  I  long  for  now. 
When  the  veil  at  last  is  riven, 
To  behold  Thee  will  be  Heaven. 

96 


Poltj  (Sammmiion. 

SAVIOUR,  above  all  heavens  ascended  high, 
With  Angels  and  Archangels  waiting  nigh, 
Yet  still  a  wounded  Lamb  upon  the  throne, 
Still  with  a  human  heart,  remembering  Thine  own. 

O  Priest !  O  Victim  !  who  Thy  prayer  dost  pour 

For  me,  as  for  the  ransomed  gone  before, 

Grant  me  by  faith  that  Sacrifice  to  see, 

And  thus  my  whole  heart,  Lord,  to  offer  up  to  Thee. 

Pour  out  Thy  Spirit  on  Thy  Church  below, 
Where  Thy  forgiven  children  humbly  bow ; 
Thou  whom  no  limit  and  no  bound  can  hold, 
The  secret  of  Thy  Presence  unto  us  unfold. 

Thine  all-obedient  Life,  Thy  Death,  we  plead ; 

Upon  the  Sacred  Elements  we  feed : 

We  mourn  that   night,  whence   most   our   healing 

springs, 
When  thirty  silver  pieces  bought  the  King  of  Kings  ! 

97 


HOLY  COMMUNION. 


Man  sold  Thy  Life  for  money  mean  and  small; 
To  ransom  man,  the  Saviour  gave  His  all : 
We  hide  our  faces, — would  our  hearts  might  break, 
As,  prostrate  at  Thy  Throne,  the  gifts  of  Love  we 
take ! 

O  Love  Omnipotent !  this  will  of  mine 

Shall  yet  obey  Thy  gentleness  Divine : 

Death  and  Hell  fall  before  Thee;  none  may  say 

Where  Love  will  pause  upon  its  all-victorious  way. 

Thou  know'st  I  can  not  love  Thee  as  I  would, 

But  yet  abide  writh  me,  my  only  Good  ! 

The  evening  of  my  days  is  hastening  on, 

The  journey  of  my  life  must  now  be  well-nigh  done. 

The  way  is  desert,  difficult,  and  long, 
Temptations  thicken,  and  the  foe  is  strong; 
All  is  tumultuous  and  perplexing  here; 
Draw  up  my  heart  where  undivided  Truth  shines 
clear. 

To  the  Church  Catholic  that  is  at  rest, 
In  Thine  own  Glory  perfected  and  blest; 

98 


HOLY  COMMUNION. 


Whatever  darkness  on  our  path  may  be, 

They  hold  bright  fellowship  with  the  Eternal  Three. 

In  spirit  let  me  share  their  full  repose 
Their  calm  pure  heart,  in  which  Thine  image  glows ; 
Their  blissful  hope  of  joys  more  glorious  still, 
Their  deep  complacency  in  Thine  all-holy  Will. 

I  know  Thee,  Saviour !  walking  at  my  side ; 
Through   earth's   last   shadows   be  Thou    still   my 

Guide  : 
Then,  calm  as  ripples  dying  on  the  strand, 
Be  my  transition  to  the  undefiled  Land ! 

99 


TN  the  outskirts  of  the  Kingdom, 
*    Toiling  amidst  lowest  things, 
God  doth  educate  the  spirit, 

Searching  out  its  inmost  springs. 

Common  things  have  gathered  meaning; 

All  are  charms  of  heavenly  power, 
By  His  shaping,  who  from  evil 

Causes  purest  good  to  flower. 

Words  Divine,  and  Prayers,  and  Blessings, 
Sorrows,  Sacraments,  and  Alms, 

Humble  souls,  with  care  o'er-wearied, 
Bended  knees  and  folded  palms ; 

These  are  working  wondrous  changes, 

Unperceived,  except  by  faith, 
Gathering  for  the  eternal  Harvest 

Life  from  out  the  mass  of  Death. 

ioo 


THE  NET 


These  their  wondrous  web  are  casting, 
Unperceived,  in  the  deep  sea, 

In  whose  meshes  float  unheeding 
Those  who  fancy  they  are  free  ; 

Till  the  strong  sure  hand  of  power 
Draws  them  on  unto  the  shore ; 

Lord !  Thy  Net  can  not  be  broken, 
We  are  Thine  for  evermore. 

IOI 


^ssotiixtions. 

OUR  hearts  are  overcharged  with  memories  sweet, 
Of  those  whom  we  love  best : 
Why  are  the  memories  so  slow  to  rise, 
Of  Him,  earth's  dearest  Guest? 

We  know  the  story,  old  yet  ever  new 

Of  how  He  came  to  save, 
And  dwelt  as  Very  Man  with  brother-men, 

From  childhood  to  the  grave. 

And  earth  has  tokens  manifold  and  fair, 
Which  He  has  touched  with  light; 

Memorials  of  his  blessed  Presence  throng 
Forever  on  our  sight. 

Our  chequered  human  life,  our  daily  food, 

The  flowers  along  the  way, 
And  all  the  glorious  and  the  common  things, 

That  meet  us  day  by  day. 
102 


ASSOCIATIONS. 


From  the  first  early  flush  of  rosy  dawn, 

To  midnight's  solemn  skies ; 
From  the  young  carols  of  the  opening  Spring, 

To  where  the  Autumn  sighs; 

From  the  fair  tender  form  of  infant  life 

We  in  the  cradle  lay, 
To  where  beside  the  bier  of  manhood's  strength 

We  cast  ourselves  to  pray  ; 

Thoughts  of  the  Christ  should  rise  at  every  turn, 

And  hold  us  all  day  long  : 
Alone,  or  when  in  crowds,  each  heart  should  hear 

That  blessed  under-song, 

Which  upon  Nature's  harp  is  whispering  stil, 

Its  soft  undying  strain, 
Moving  the  wakeful  soul  with  deep  desire 

To  see  His  Face  again. 

O  hear  it,  ye,  on  whom  His  gracious  Hand 

Has  made  the  sacred  sign, 
The  Cross  of  Suffering, — who  have  meekly  bowed, 

To  bear  that  brand  Divine ; 
103 


ASSOCIATIONS. 


For  pain  and  weakness  make  Him  to  our  hearts 

Nearer  and  dearer  seem, 
Till  life  becomes  a  story,  sweet  though  sad, 

Of  which  He  is  the  theme. 


104 


"5 


HOW  heavily  the  evening  lies, 
On  aching  limbs  and  sleepless  eyes, 
And  as  the  day  gives  place  to  night, 
The  spirit  seems  to  lose  its  light. 

The  Past  breaks  loose  upon  the  soul, 
Oppressing  it  beyond  control ; 
While  thickly,  from  the  Future,  glare 
Visions  of  anguish  and  despair. 

Conscience,  and  Fancy, — thoughts  of  all 
That  most  can  harass,  and  appall, 
A  strange  tumultuous  vigil  keep ; 
And  only  Hope  and  Reason  sleep. 

O  troubled  heart !  O  fevered  head  ! 
There  watches  One  beside  thy  bed, 
Calmer  than  moonlight  on  a  flower, 
Stronger  than  Satan's  wildest  power. 
105 


NIGHT. 


He  knows  the  Night,  Who  made  it  pass 
At  first,  like  breath  from  gleaming  glass, 
When  at  His  word,  "  Let  there  be  Light," 
The  day-spring  flashed,  and  all  was  blight. 

He  knows  it,  Who  on  mountains  bare 
Passed  its  long  hours  in  lonely  care, 
Kneeling  beneath  the  Syrian  sky, 
Pleading  till  dawn  with  the  Most  High. 

The  hurrying  night-wind  round  Him  beat, 
The  driving  sea-foam  swept  His  feet, 
-As  forth  He  walked  upon  the  wave, 
The  tempest-tost  to  cheer  and  save. 

He  knows  the  Night,  Who  felt  its  power 
Of  darkness,  in  that  evil  hour, 
When  the  betrayer's  torchlight  shone 
On  silver  olive  and  gray  stone ; 

The  flight  of  friends,  the  wrath  of  foes, 
The  weight  of  sin,  fear's  sharpest  throes, 
The  Accuser's  voice,  the  cruel  storm 

Of  scourging  on  that  wearied  Form; 

106 


NIGHT. 


The  utter  shame,  the  Gentile's  scorn, 
Denial  base,  the  crown  of  thorn, 
The  fiercest  strain  of  Satan's  might, — 
These  came  upon  Him  in  the  Night. 

He  searched  the  Darkness  through  and  through  ; 
Its  gloom,  for  Him,  has  nothing  new, 
As  night  by  night  He  turns  us  round, 
Into  the  shadowy  outer  bound. 

There,  when  afflicted  and  alone, 

O  call  upon  that  Mighty  One ! 

And  hold  Him  fast,  and  make  Him  stay, 

And  bless  you,  till  the  dawn  of  day. 

Remember,  Night  has  mercies  too  ; 
Its  pains  are  only  for  the  few ; 
Think  upon  all  the  peace  it  brings, 
Folding  soft  creatures  in  its  wings. 

As  wearily  you  toss  and  sigh, 
Thousands  of  infants  sleeping  lie, 
And  man  and  beast  and  bird  and  flower, 
Grow  stronger,  for  the  midnight  hour. 
107 


NIGHT. 


And  if  the  darkness  had  not  been, 
We  never  should  the  stars  have  seen, 
Or  guessed  that  the  clear  azure  sky- 
Veiled  myriad  worlds,  that  rolled  on  high. 

Then  spend  no  more  dark  hours  alone, 
But  call  upon  the  Mighty  One ; 
And  hold  Him  fast,  and  He  will  stay 
Until  the  shadows  flee  away. 
108 


THE  sea  lies  like  a  mirror, 
All  full  of  golden  light, 
With  streaks  of  purest  chrysophrase, 
And  veins  of  silver  bright : 

The  silent  ships  go  swiftly, 
And  leave  no  trace  behind, 

The  white  sails  spread  and  quiver, 
Before  the  gentle  wind  ; 

There  floats  one  little  vessel 
Just  close  upon  the  strand, 

And  eager  crowds  before  it, 
In  expectation  stand ; 

So  floated  once  a  vessel 

On  such  a  glassy  sea  ; 
And  so  a  crowd  once  gathered 

Of  old  in  Galilee. 
109 


THE  SEA-SHORE. 


For  He,  Whose  voice  had  drawn  them, 
Taught  them  from  out  the  ship, 

And  all  that  throng  hung  breathless 
Upon  His  eye  and  lip. 

And  still,  the  words  He  uttered 
Can  make  hearts  throb,  and  burn  ; 

We  still  are  waiting  for  Him  ; 
When,  when  will  He  return  ? 

When  the  world's  lawless  evil 
Has  reached  its  highest  tide, 

Then  will  the  Veil  star-spangled 
Draw  its  blue  folds  aside. 

Then  the  doors  everlasting 

Lift  up  their  heads  again, 
That  He  may  be  revealed, 

Whose  right  it  is  to  reign. 

"  O  come  !  "  our  hearts  are  calling; 

"  O  come  !  "  all  nature  cries — 

The  green  earth's  expectation, 

The  sea's  incessant  sighs. 
no 


WHY  will  ye  call  it  "  Death's  dark  night  ?  " 
Death  is  the  entrance  into  Light : 
Behind  its  cloudy  purple  gates 
The  everlasting  Morning  waits. 

Then  fear  not  Death,  its  pains,  its  strife, 
Its  weakness — these  belong  to  life  : 
Death  is  the  moment  when  they  cease, 
When  Christ  says  u  Come,"  and  all  is  peace. 

Once,  in  the  silence  of  the  night, 
A  maiden  lay  with  smiles  of  light, 
Her  blue  eyes  gazing  open  wide, 
And  a  few  violets  by  her  side. 

Her  mother  asked  her  why  she  smiled, 
What  pleasant  thoughts  the  time  beguiled  ? 
She  answered  her  with  gentle  breath, 
"  Thoughts  of  the  sweetness  found  in  Death." 

Death  was  but  as  her  dark-hued  flowers, 

Exhaling  sweetness  through  the  hours, 

Till,  ere  the  early  dawn  could  be, 

She  breathed  into  Eternity. 

in 


ORD  of  my  nights  and  days  ! 
•"     Let  my  desire  be, 
Not  to  be  rid  of  earth, 
But  nearer  Thee. 

If  I  may  nearer  draw 

Through  lengthened  grief  and  pain. 
Then,  to  continue  here, 

Must  be  my  gain  ; 

Till  I  have  strengthened  been, 

To  take  a  wider  grasp 
Of  that  eternal  Life, 

I  long  to  clasp  ; 

Till  I  am  so  refined, 

I  can  the  glory- bear, 
Of  that  excess  of  joy, 

I  thirst  to  share ; 

112 


WAITING. 


Till  I  am  meet  to  gaze 

On  uncreated  Light, 
Transformed,  and  perfected, 

By  that  new  sight. 

Sorrow's  long  lesson  o'er, 

Death's  discipline  gone  through, 
Thou  wilt  unfold  to  me 

What  Joy  can  do. 

Glad  souls  are  on  the  wing, 

From  earth  to  Heaven  they  flee  : 
At  last,  Thine  hour  will  come, 

To  send  for  me. 

Reveal  the  mighty  Love, 

That  binds  Thy  Heart  to  mine  : 
Thy  Counsels,  and  my  will, 

Should  intertwine. 

Lord  of  my  heart  and  hopes  ! 

Let  my  desire  be, 
Not  to  be  rid  of  earth, 

But  one  with  Thee. 
«3 


ONE  cry  of  mortal  anguish, 
And  then  the  Cross  He  leaves, 
While  Paradise  the  blessed, 
The  Conqueror  receives ; 
That  bright  and  tranquil  region 

For  Christ  has  waited  long, 

And  now  He  treads  its  portals, 

Head  of  a  glorious  throng. 

Then  welcomed  Him,  rejoicing 
The  souls  of  all  the  just, 

Who,  from  the  world's  creation, 
Have  died  in  hope,  and  trust ; 

Then  Eve's  deep  expectation 
Was  satisfied  indeed, 

And  Abraham  beheld  Him, 

The  long-desired  Seed. 
114 


PARADISE. 

Since  then,  a  countless  number, 

Soul  rescued  after  soul, 
Have  passed  unceasing  upward, 

Unto  the  heavenly  goal  : 
New  forms  of  varied  beauty, 

But  all  made  like  their  Lord, 
The  sweet  and  full-toned  cnorus 

Of  that  one  primal  chord. 

All  holy  ties  of  kindred 

There  blend  and  merge  in  one — 
The  children  of  the  Father, 

Accepted  in  the  Son. 
Earth's  long  processions  ending, 

There  form  in  circles  vast, 
There  meet  the  first  and  latest, 

Where  Time  is  overpast. 

They  are  at  one  for  ever, 

In  love  intensely  keen, 
With  memories  cleansed,  yet  perfect, 

And  joy  where  shame  has  been  : 
Their  prayer  now  knows  no  languor, 

Their  praise  unceasing  flows, 


PARADISE. 


From  rapture,  that  still  higher 
And  more  abounding  grows. 

Their  language  is  too  mighty 

To  be  translated  now  ; 
The  great  Apostle  heard  it,* 

Yet  could  not  make  us  know 
The  glory  of  its  meaning, 

The  music  of  its  tone; 
But  panted  for  the  hour 

When  it  should  be  his  own. 

Panted  for  the  "  far  better,"f 

The  far,  far  better  Land, 
The  presence  of  Christ  Jesus, 

The  joys  at  His  Right  Hand 
For  he  had  seen  that  region, 

While  yet  in  mortal  guise, 
Guest  in  the  many  mansions, 

The  homes  of  Paradise. 


*  M  He  was  caught  up  into  Paradise,  and  heard  unspeak- 
able words,  which  it  is  not  lawful  (possible)  for  a  man  to 
utter." — 2  Cor.  xii.  4. 

f  Phil.  i.  23. 

116 


PARADISE. 


O  think  of  that  assembly  ! 

Their  beauty  and  their  peace; 
Souls  perfect,  yet  receiving 

Love's  infinite  increase. 
In  full  illumination, 

Knowing  as  they  are  known, 
The  transitory  ended, 

And  the  imperfect  flown. 

Henceforward,  and  forever, 

They  live,  live  unto  God  ;* 
He  is  their  source,  their  object, 

Their  light,  and  their  abode. 
As  sea-flowers  in  the  ocean, 

As  white  clouds  in  the  air, 
He  forms  them  and  expands  them, 

Is  round  them  everywhere. 

His  joy  is  through  them  spreading; 

His  Will,  their  will  sustains ; 
Joint  heirs,  in  rich  possession, 

Of  Christ's  eternal  gains. 


St.  Luke  xx.  38. 

117 


PARADISE. 


With  vision  all  unclouded, 
They  see  Him  face  to  face, 

Share  in  His  intercessions, 
And  ministries  of  grace. 

They  rest  from  all  their  labors,* 

Yet  serve  Him  day  and  night : 
Their  earthly  forms  are  sleeping, 

But  they,  in  deep  delight, 
Wait  for  the  Resurrection, 

Of  Life  the  perfect  Crown, 
The  time  of  Restitution, 

Christ's  triumph,  and  their  own. 

From  henceforth,  saith  the  Spirit, 

Write,  ".Blessed  are  the  dead  ;  "— \ 
Believe  that  in  Christ's  Kingdom 

All  change  must  higher  lead  : 
And  when,  in  bitter  anguish, 

You  close  some  tender  eyes, 
Doubt  not  they  are  beholding 

The  King  of  Paradise. 


Rev.  xiv.  13.  \  Rev.  vii.  15. 

118 


gltc  %\ctXcmption  of  Vfxz  Itotitj- 

UT  of  the  dust,  God  formed  man's  flesh,  to  be 
Deathless,  and  fair  ; 
Man  sinned  ;  his  robe  of  innocence  was  gone, 
And  left  him  bare  : 


o 


Exposed  to  every  form  of  misery, 

Disease  and  pain, 
Till,  when  Death's  cruel  work  is  done,  he  turns 

To  dust  again. 

Death  reigned,  supremely,  tyrannously  strong, 
Four  thousand  years  ; 

The  generations  of  mankind  went  down 
Mid  hopeless  tears. 

At  last,  there  fell  a  sound  through  the  night  air, 

The  Heavens  were  stirred  : 

But  on  the  dull  deaf  earth,  only  a  few 

Poor  shepherds  heard. 
119 


THE  REDEMPTION  OF  THE  BODY. 

The  sky  was  gleaming  with  the  wondrous  light 

Of  a  strange  Star ; 
But  only  three  wise  men  perceived  it  there, 

And  came  from  far. 

Yet  ne'er  before  did  such  mysterious  night 

Enshroud  the  earth  ; 
For  in  it,  this  poor  sinful  race  received 

A  second  birth, 

When,  in  the  feeble  dying  flesh  of  Man, 

A  Babe  forlorn, 
The  Life  that  from  Eternity  had  been, 

In  Time  was  born. 

So  Christ  became  Death's  subject,  e'en  as  we, 

And  freely  gave 
That  sacred,  sinless  Body  to  the  Cross, 

And  then  the  Grave. 

Death  triumphed,  and  believed  that  on  the  Cross 

Life's  Sceptre  broke  : 

But  Christ  arose,  and  Death  for  evermore 

Must  wear  His  yoke  ; 
120 


THE  REDEMPTION  OF  THE  BODY. 

No  tyrant  now,  but  servant,  whose  chief  task 

Is  to  unbind 
The  chains,  by  which  the  children  of  the  King 

Are  here  confined  : 

For  since  Christ's  Body  rose  from  out  the  Tomb, 
And  sought  the  skies, 

So  the  whole  race  of  man,  now  joined  to  Him, 
Like  Him  must  rise. 

Oh  !  false  ungrateful  words,  to  call  the  Grave 
Man's  long  last  Home  ! 

'Tis  but  a  lodging,  held  from  week  to  week, 
Till  Christ  shall  come. 

It  is  a  store,  of  which  Christ  keeps  the  key, 

Where  in  each  cell 
Are  laid,  in  hope,  the  vestments  of  the  souls 

He  loves  so  well : 

And  when  He  comes,  upon  His  marriage  morn, 

In  light  arrayed, 
He  will  invest  His  own  in  those  same  forms, 

All  glorious  made. 

121 


THE  REDEMPTION  OF  THE  BODY. 

O  Saviour  of  the  Body  Mystical — 

Of  flesh  and  blood, 
Which  can  not  enter  into  Life,  but  through 

Jordan's  dark  flood — 

Save  us,  for  we  are  Thine  by  bond  and  pledge : 

To  Thee  we  trust 
That  which  we  hold  most  precious,  when  we  say, 

"  Dust  unto  dust." 

122 


(SatTicvetl  "glovotvs. 

RING  out,  sweet  Flowers,  from  your  blue  shining 
bells, 
The  hidden  fragrance  of  the  deep  green  dells ; 
While,  mingling  with  each  fresh  and  woodland  tone, 
Come  lights  and  shadows  from   Life's  spring-time 

flown. 
The  body  may  in  chains  of  weakness  be, 
But  the  unfettered  Fancy  still  is  free ; 
Free  to  roam  out  along  a  thousand  ways, 
Where  the  wind  travels,  and  the  sunlight  strays  : 
To  wander  after  each  gay  breeze  that  calls, 
And  leap  with  all  the  leaping  waterfalls, 
Or  dream  enchanted,  as  the  soft  air  stirs 
A  sea-like  murmur  in  yon  belt  of  firs. 

Shall  we  complain,  if  for  a  little  while 

He  hides  us  from  the  light  of  Nature's  smile  ? 

If,  held  apart  within  some  silent  room, 

Sore  pain  or  weakness  curtain  us  with  gloom  ? 

It  is  but  that  our  souls  may  nearer  grow 

Unto  the  Heart  whence  Nature's  glories  flow. 

123 


GA  THE  RED  FLO  WERS. 


O  Heart  of  Jesus  !  whence  all  flowers  have  birth, 

Whence  come  the  sweet  sounds  of  this  lovely  earth, 

And  birds  have  beauty,  and  young  things  their  mirth  : 

O  Heart  !  whence  the  Baptismal  waters  flow, 

And  the  celestial  Food  by  which  we  grow, — 

That  fills  all  chalices  with  that  true  Wine 

Which  maketh  glad  the  heart,  with  health  divine, 

And  is  the  sad  soul's  only  Anodyne, — 

Thou  through  Thy  riven  side  hast  made  a  way 

For  wanderers  to  return,  who  widely  stray  ; 

For  chiefest  mourners  to  obtain  relief, 

Who  gaze  on  Thy  diviner  depth  of  grief, 

For  Light  and  Immortality  to  come, 

Bright  as  the  Spring  flowers,  from  their  winter  tomb. 

Lord,  if  Thy  Wounds  have  filled  the  world  with  peace, 
What  shall  Thy  Joy  do,  when  all  sin  shall  cease, 
And  the  new  earth  shall  yield  her  full  increase  ! 

124 


n^HERE'S  a  sighing  in  the  poplars, 
■■■       As  the  clouds  of  evening  weep, 
And  a  sadness  and  a  shiver 

Upon  my  spirit  creep  : 
For  all  that  makes  up  summer 

Is  now  so  quickly  flown  ; 
The  short  days  die  so  early, 

And  darkness  settles  down. 

But  I'm  waiting  for  the  Morning 

When  the  light  shall  come  again, 
The  pure  and  perfect  shining, 

That  cometh  after  rain  ; 
The  bright  and  blessed  Morning, 

When  I  shall  wake  refreshed, 
And  in  immortal  garments 

Shall  royally  be  dressed. 
1 25 


AFTER  DARK. 


I  have  been  so  impatient 

To  gain  a  higher  state, 
And  have  asked  my  Lord  to  help  me; 

But  He  always  answers,  "  Wait." 
And  I  know  He  must  be  wisest, 

Who  would  have  me  love  Him  best ; 
And  at  last  I  shall  be  contrite 

When  I  sink  upon  His  breast. 

But  my  lamp  will  burn  so  dimly, 

Though  I  trim  it  up  with  care ; 
It  seems  almost  extinguished, 

In  this  heavy  midnight  air  : 
And  waiting  makes  me  sleepy, 

And  faint  with  hope  deferred  : 
What  if  I  am  not  ready, 

When  the  sudden  cry  is  heard  ? 

Yet  I'm  longing  for  the  Morning 
When  the  marriage  bells  shall  ring; 

For  the  great  shout  and  the  trumpet 
That  shall  proclaim  our  King; 

For  the  flight  of  utter  rapture. 
To  meet  Him  in  the  air, 
126 


AFTER  DARK. 


For  the  band  of  radiant  faces 
That  I  know  will  all  be  there. 
*  *  *  * 

Sigh  then,  ye  winds  of  autumn, 

Ye  clouds  of  autumn  weep, 
And  let  a  passing  sadness 

Across  my  spirit  sweep. 
What  though  my  life's  short  summer 

Is  all  too  quickly  flown, 
What  though  the  days  die  early, 

And  darkness  settles  down  : — 

I  am  waiting  for  the  Morning 

When  the  light  shall  come  again, 
The  pure  and  perfect  shining 

That  cometh  after  rain  ; 
For  that  transcendent  Morning, 

When  I  shall  wake  refreshed, 
And  in  immortal  garments 

Shall  royally  be  dressed. 
127 


an 


|0mt 

H  TTOME,  home,"  she  cried  exulting, 

*  A     "  Death  is  a  glorious  Birth," 
Then  gently  slipped  her  shackles, 

And  sprang  away  from  earth  : 
The  Angels  caught  her  softly, 

And  bore  her  up  the  steep  ; 
The  gold  gates  closed  behind  her, 

And  we  remain  to  weep. 

Ah !  would  she  so  advise  us, 

Could  she  lean  from  out  the  blue  ? 

And  that  sweet  voice  steal  o'er  us, 
Refreshing  as  the  dew  ? 

"  Weep  ye  that  I  have  entered 
My  Father's  House  above, 

And,  resting  from  all  sorrow, 

Am  perfected  in  love  !  " 
128 


HOME. 


M  Beside  my  grave,  O  weep  not ! 

Nor  say  I'm  lying  there; 
Turn  up  your  faces  heavenwards, 

Into  the  sun-lit  air ; 
Think  how  I'm  far  above  you 

In  '  Everlasting  Spring,' 
In  the  Imperial  City, 

And  presence  of  the  King." 

"  Lost  in  His  light  of  glory, 

For  which  He  made  me  meet, 
'I  rest  in  adoration 

Down  at  His  sacred  Feet ; 
From  the  wasting  of  long  sickness, 

From  the  weariness  of  life, 
From  throes  of  helpless  pity, 
And  the  useless  din  of  strife  ;  " 

"  From  the  burning  shame  of  finding 

A  traitor  deep  within, 

From  battles  long  with  error, 

And  struggles  fierce  with  sin, 

From  the  haunting  of  sweet  voices, 

That  through  my  spirit  rang, 
129 


HOME. 


From  walking  in  waste  places, 
And  life's  long  hunger-pang  ;  " 

"  From  wounding  misconstructions, 

From  unappeased  claims, 
From  unsuccessful  labors, 

From  disappointed  aims, — 
From  all  these  He  has  freed  me 

By  His  victorious  Hand  ; 
Will  not  ye,  too,  then  hasten 

To  this  Immortal  Land  ?  " 

"  The  trumpet  note  of  Welcome 
Is  always  on  the  blast, 
It  has  no  time  to  die  away, 

The  souls  come  in  so  fast : 
Then  faint  not  ye,  Beloved, 

But  let  hope  conquer  sorrow, 
These  golden  gates  shall  open 
To  let  you  in  to-morrow." 
I3° 


TDEWAIL  not  thou  thyself  with  restless  haste, 
U    Nor  say,  God  lets  thy  life  run  all  to  waste. 
Thou  hast  thyself  to  master,  and  subdue : 
No  easy  work,  methinks,  for  thee  to  do. 
For  His  own  Court,  God  will  thy  soul  prepare ; 
And  jewels  for  the  Crown  are  cut  with  care. 

Say  not,  all  useful  work  thou  art  denied  : 
Behold,  Chrises  Censer  waiteth  at  thy  side, 
He,  in  compassion,  lets  it  down  to  thee ; 
Heap  on  thine  incense,  heap  it  full  and  free. 

Pray  for  thy  Friends  :  that  every  deed  of  love 
May  be  received  and  registered  above ; 
Kind  words  and  patient  ways  and  soft  regards, 
All  turned  in  heaven  to  stores  of  rich  rewards. 
Pray  for  the  Sick,  who  suffer  in  all  lands, 
God's  prisoners,  laid  in  bonds  by  His  own  hands 
That  on  them  all  His  likeness  He  would  trace, 
And  grant  them  special  offices  of  grace ; 

131 


USELESSNESS. 


That  they,  through  languor,  may  not  cease  to  care 

For  occupations  they  no  longer  share  ; 

But  that  by  prayer  and  sympathy  and  smile, 

The  burdens  of  the  weary  they  beguile. 

For  kind  Physicians  plead — that  as  our  Lord 

Trusts  them  with  works  of  healing,  at  His  Word 

Each  one  may  bring  to  Him  his  own  sick  soul, 

To  be  by  Him  forgiven,  and  made  whole. 

Pray  for  crowned  heads,  with  all  their  weight  of 
care ; 
For  broken  hearts,  and  all  the  sorrows  there  : 
For  widows,  orphans,  solitaries,  wives, 
For   heartless   homes,  where    Love    nor    lives    nor 

thrives : 
That  all  the  women  of  this  English  land 
May  be  a  steadfast,  noble,  saintly  band, 
Seeking,  in  all,  less  to  be  great  than  good, 
Fashioned  after  God's  type  of  womanhood. 
Remember  Statesmen,  and  all  master  minds, 
Priests,  Poets,  Teachers,  Rulers  of  all  kinds ; 
That  all  Christ's  Messengers  be  channels  true, 
'Twixt  us  and  God,  with  Whom  we  have  to  do : 
That  they  may  choose  the  right — nor  fear  the  strong, 

Nor  from  base  love  of  Mammon  crown  the  wrong. 

132 


USELESSNESS. 


Plead  for  the  wanderers  from  Christ's  fold  who  stray, 
For  those  who  know  it  not,  nor  know  the  way  : 
For  the  whole  race  which  He  has  made  His  own, 
For  which  He  intercedes  before  the  Throne. 
All  useful  work,  O  heart !  art  thou  denied, 
While  this  great  Censer  waiteth  at  thy  side  ? 
Heap  on  thine  incense,  heap  it  full  and  free  ; 
He,  when  He  offers  it,  will  think  of  thee. 

Thou  art  too  weak  to  pray  ? — then,  spirit,  rest : 
Lie  where  Saint  John  lay,  on  thy  Master's  breast ; 
He  knows  thy  weakness,  understands  each  sigh, 
The  yearnings  of  thy  heart,  its  voiceless  cry. 
A  child  who  knows  not  why,  nor  whence  its  pains, 
But  meekly  lies,  and  frets  not  nor  complains, 
Is  as  a  dewy  flower,  that  breathes  at  even 
A  perfume  sweet,  into  the  heart  of  Heaven. 
Lie  childlike  thou,  and  ask  not  whence,  nor  why ; 
Lie  still,  and  hear  thy  Saviour's  lullaby. 

133 


0  JESUS  Merciful !  bend  down 
In  Thy  compassions  deep, 
As  sleepless  and  alone  I  lie, 
And  watch  beside  me  keep. 

There  is  a  holier,  sweeter  rest, 
Than  the  lulling  of  this  pain  ; 

And  a  deeper  calm  than  that  which  Sleep 
Sheds  over  heart  and  brain. 

It  is  the  soul's  surrendered  choice, 

The  settling  of  the  Will, 
Lying  down  gently  on  the  Cross 

God's  purpose  to  fulfill. 

For  this  I  need  Thy  Presence,  Lord, 
My  hand  held  close  in  Thine  :* 


*  Isaiah  xli.  13. 

134 


REST. 


Infuse  now  through  my  spirit  faint, 
An  energy  divine. 

Feed  me  with  Love,  imprint  on  me 
Thine  awful  kiss  of  Peace  : 

Let  me  be  still  upon  Thy  Breast, 
Nor  struggle  for  release. 

And  sanctify  my  weakness,  Lord ; 

Nature's  extreme  distress 
Is  just  the  time  when  it  may  learn 

God's  glory  to  express. 

Stamp  in,  O  God,  at  any  cost, 
The  likeness  of  Thy  Son  ! 

Filial  submission  to  Thy  Will 
Is  heaven  itself  begun. 

135 


ORD,  I  had  planned  to  do  Thee  service  true, 
■"    To  be  more  humbly  watchful  unto  prayer, 
More  faithful  in  obedience  to  Thy  Word, 
More  bent  to  put  away  all  earthly  care. 

I  thought  of  sad  hearts  comforted  and  healed, 
Of  wanderers  turned  into  the  pleasant  way, 
Of  little  ones  preserved  from  sinful  snare, 
Of  dark  homes  brightened  with  a  heavenly  ray  ; 

Of  time  all  consecrated  to  Thy  Will, 
Of  strength  spent  gladly  for  Thee,  day  by  day, — 
When  suddenly  the  heavenly  mandate  came, 
That  I  should  give  it  all,  at  once,  away. 

Thy  blessed  Hand  came  forth,  and  laid  me  down, 

Turned  every  beating  pulse  to  throbs  of  pain, 

Hushed  all  my  prayers  into  one  feeble  cry 

Then  bid  me  to  believe,  that  loss  was  gain. 

136 


OFFERINGS. 

And  was  it  loss,  to  have  indulged  such  hopes  ? 
Nay,  they  were  gifts,  from  out  the  Inner  Shrine,- 
Garlands,  that  I  might  hang  about  Thy  Cross, 
Gems,  to  surrender  at  the  call  Divine. 

As  chiselled  image  unresisting  lies 

In  niche  by  its  own  Sculptor's  hand  designed, 

So,  to  my  unemployed  and  silent  life, 

Let  me  in  quiet  meekness  be  resigned. 

If  works  of  Faith,  and  labors  sweet  of  Love, 
May  not  be  mine,  yet  patient  Hope  can  be 
Within  my  heart,  like  a  bright  censer's  fire, 
With  incense  of  thanksgiving  mounting  free. 

Thou  art  our  Pattern,  to  the  end  of  time, 
O  Crucified  !  and  perfect  is  Thy  Will ; 
The  workers  follow  Thee  in  doing  good  : 
The  helpless  think  of  Calvary,  and  are  still. 

137 


r\  PAIN  perpetual !  wearing  strength  away, 
"  While  spirits  flag,  and  fail, 

And  all  the  many-colored  hues  of  life 
Have  faded,  and  grown  pale. 

O  thoughts  unwedded  to  the  deeds  ye  seek  ! 

Life  that  all  fruitless  seems — 
Long  dull  inaction,  yet  without  repose  ; 

All  feeling,  fear,  and  dreams  ! 

'Tis  thine  infirmity,  impatient  soul : 

Remember  now  the  years 
That  are  at  God's  right  Hand,  and  cast  away 

Thy  grievances,  and  fears. 

Think  of  the  infinite  abyss  of  peace 

In  which  thy  lot  shall  be, 
Where  ages  are  but  ripples  that  run  o'er 

Eternity's  deep  Sea. 

138 


WEARINESS. 


Give  thou  God  leisure  to  prepare  thee  for 

That  destiny  sublime, 
When  e'en  with  lifeless  things  His  Hand  works  on, 

Unheeding  space  and  time. 

Listen  !  borne  inland  from  the  rocky  coast, 

Comes  the  wild  voice  of  waves, 
Which  for  uncounted  centuries  have  toiled 

Among  the  deep  sea-caves. 

This  ray,  from  yon  fair  star  serenely  bright, 

Now  broken  in  thy  tears, 
Had  traveled  onwards,  ere  it  reached  thine  eyes, 

For  sixty  thousand  years  f 

When  times  and  spaces  of  such  vast  extent 

Before  thy  thoughts  combine, 
Into  a  momentary  pang  shrinks  up 

This  long,  long  pain  of  thine. 

Then,  if  thy  weary  heart  recoils,  and  faints 

At  such  high  wondrous  ways, 
Turn  where  the  great  Creator  bears  a  life 

Which  thou  canst  count  by  days. 
139 


WEARINESS. 


A  few  hours'  Agony,  the  Bloody  Sweat 

From  that  shrunk  Form  has  wrung ; 

And  a  few  more  have  brought  Him  to  the  Cross, 
To  die  when  He  was  young. 

Strive  thou  in  soul  to  sympathize  with  Him, 

The  infinitely  great ; 
For  He  has  stooped  to  understand,  and  share, 

The  weakness  of  thy  state. 

Give  thanks ;  the  Lord  is  patient ;  He  will  work 

A  perfect  work  in  thee  : 
And  grudge  no  time  to  make  thee  fit  to  bear 

Joy  for  Eternity. 

140 


<5oa^3XtgIxt 

GOOD-NIGHT,  Good-night !  the  dreams  of  earth 
are  ended, 
Its  glory  and  its  passion  passed  away, 
And  a  new  sense,  of  joy  and  terror  blended, 

Holds  all  my  heart  in  its  resistless  sway  : 
The  things  of  Time  are  fading  from  my  eyes, 
The  Unseen  encircles  me  with  strange  surprise. 

When  I  look  back  upon  the  way  I've  wandered, 

The  wasted  energies,  the  time  misspent, 
Wealth,  hopes,  affections,  all  too  often  squandered, 

That  might  have  been  to  Heaven  before  me  sent, 
My  strength  is  turned  to  weakness  at  the  sight ; 
The  time  for  toil  is  past :  Good-night,  Good-night  ! 

There  is  one  only  hope  for  souls  repenting, 
With  heart  and  work,  alas  !  all  incomplete  ; 

It  is  the  Cross,  which  spans  both  worlds,  presenting 
A  pathway  sure  for  the  most  feeble  feet ; 

141 


GOOD-NIGHT. 


I  see  it  now,  outspread  in  all  its  might ; 
Who  trusts  that  Bridge  is  safe  :  Good-night,  Good- 
night ! 

Prepare  me,  then,  Beloved,  the  Food  Immortal, 
To  strengthen  me  upon  my  wondrous  way, 

And  go  thou  with  me  to  the  furthest  portal, 
To  which  companion  footsteps  yet  may  stray ; 

Then  hide  thine  eyes,  with  their  soft  pleading  light, 

For  I  depart  alone  :  Good-night,  Good-night ! 

Let  those  dear  lips  yet  once,  once  more  caress  me, 
Then  pause  awhile  until  the  Morn  shall  come ; 

For  when  with  eager  joy  again  they  press  me, 
'Twill  be  within  our  Father's  House,  our  Home, 

Among  His  gathered  children,  pure  and  bright, 

Within  the  Land  where  there  is  no  more  Night. 

142 


GONE,  gone — but  gone  before  ! 
Silent  thy  name 
Upon  the  lips  where  once 
Its  music  came. 

Now  the  sweet  cadence  falls 

On  heavenly  air, 
Angels  are  sounding  those 

Syllables  fair. 

Gone,  gone — but  gone  before  ! 

No  tears  can  rise, 
To  dim  the  light  of  those 

Immortal  eyes. 

Nevermore  cloud  can  pass, 

Or  stain  endure, 
Upon  thy  soul  redeemed, 

Perfect  and  pure. 
143 


GONE  BEFORE. 


High  amid  star-like  saints, 
Radiant  and  calm, 

Girded  with  golden  harp, 

Bearing  green  palm  : 

Bend  from  the  battlements 
Thy  shining  brow  ; 

O  thou  Beloved  One, 

Watch  for  me  now  ! 

Almost  I  see  thee,  thou 
Seemest  so  nigh, 

When  I  look  trustfully 
Up  to  God's  sky ; 

To  the  pale  tender  blue, 

Rippled  all  o'er, 
With  the  ribbed  cloudlets,  like 

Sands  on  a  shore. 

Oh  !  could  I  drive  my  bark 

In  on  that  tide, 

Leap  on  the  golden  sands, 

Spring  to  thy  side  ! — 
144 


GONE  BEFORE. 


They  who  are  one  in  Christ, 
Hid  in  His  heart, 

Death  can  not  sever,  nor 
Hold  long  apart. 

Soon  they  clasp  hands  again. 

All  partings  o'er, 
Where  the  Life-Giver  has 

Gone  on  before. 
MS 


5  c  it  t  Ti  ♦ 

0  MOURNERS,  call  not  that  a  Home, 
Over  whose  threshold  Death  can  come  ! 
Call  it  a  sacred  shrine  for  prayer, 
A  sphere  for  love,  and  duty  fair, 
A  place  in  which  to  train  Man's  heart 
For  sympathy  to  do  its  part ; 
But  oh !  wherever  Death  can  come, 
In  mercy  call  not  that  a  Home. 

Yet  Death  is  kinder  than  of  old, 

E'en  though  he  still  must  rob  the  fold  : 

He  stands  beside  the  quiet  Dead, 

Points  an  entire  life  outspread, 

A  character  in  all  complete, 

A  written  history  most  sweet, 

That  we  may  muse  upon  it  well, 

And  to  our  sinking  spirits  tell 

How  faith  and  hope  had  guided  on, 

Until  the  latest  fears  were  gone  ; 

Until  God's  Image  was  displayed, 

And  saintly  Patience  perfect  made. 
146 


DBA  TH. 


Death's  final  seal  is  deep  imprest, 
On  thoughts  and  memories  so  blest  ; 
It  can  be  only  when  we  slight 
The  value  of  their  tender  light, 
And  of  their  onward  guiding  ray, 
That  we  can  e'er  refuse  to  say, 
Although  it  be  with  failing  breath, 
"  O  fearful  and  yet  gentle  Death  ! 
Take  from  us  our  Beloved  away, 
We  would  not,  could  not,  bid  them  stay, 
None  other  can  teach  love  like  thee, 
Love  to  endure  eternally." — 

Joy  too,  Death's  Angel  brings  to  light, 
Unto  the  purged  and  steadfast  sight. 
Oh  !  not  for  mighty  temples  planned, 
Or  finished  work  by  Genius  spanned, — 
Not  for  the  lights  of  sunset  skies, 
Glories  o'erflooding  heart  and  eyes, — 
Not  for  a  long  desired  birth, 
Or  for  that  fairest  lot  of  €arth, 
When  equal  hearts  in  union  blest 
Are  met  for  evermore  at  rest, 
Can  we  rejoice  with  joy  so  pure, 
So  calmly  certain  to  endure, 
147 


DEA  TH. 


As  when  an  unrepeated  sigh, 
Then  a  deep  stillness  brooding  nigh, 
Tells  that  the  unchained  soul  has  flown 
There,  where  before  her  prayers  had  gone, 
Home,  from  this  scene  of  grief  and  wars, 
Home,  blue  and  high,  beyond  the  stars. 
Then,  strong  in  patience,  we  can  wait,  ( 
E'en  at  the  Grave's  unclosing  gate, 
While,  deep  within,  Death  plants  our  seed ; 
For  we  are  then  most  sure  indeed, 
That  Spring's  bright  day  will  bring  the  hour, 
When  our  immortal  plant  shall  flower. 

Sad  and  faint-hearted  !     Courage  then  ! 
And  struggle  on  like  earnest  men ; 
Those  closed  and  seeming  sleeping  eyes 
Are  watching  you  from  out  the  skies. 
The  Past — into  God's  sight  is  gone, 
The  day  now  Present — fleeteth  on  ; 
What  of  the  Future  ? — O  my  King, 
The  endless  Hallelujahs  ring 
Within  the  Home  that  Thou  hast  found, 
Where  Love  and  Life  at  last  are  crowned  ! 
148 


ZTcsolittiou, 

"  But  Thou  remainest." 

OGOD,  this  grief  is  more 
Than  I  can  bear  alone. 
My  heart  seems  suddenly  to  have  become 
A  cold  crushed  stone — 

Till,  touched  with  rapid  shocks 
Of  Memory's  keen  pain, 
It  plunges  in  strong  agony,  to  fall 
Down  cold  again. 

Lord,  why  such  cruel  wrath, 
Hard  to  be  understood  ? 
How  can  it  be  that  it  is  sent  in  Love  ? 
That  Thou  art  good  ? 

I  am  so  new  to  pain, 

To  gloom  and  to  despair ; 
149 


DESOLA  TION. 


Where  is  the  heart  on  which  my  life  has  leaned, 
O  where  ?  O  where  ? 

For  this  world,  all  is  lost ; 

Blessings  and  gifts  may  come, 
But  all  my  happiness  has  passed  away 
Into  the  tomb. 


Ah,  no  ! — not  in  the  tomb  ! 

Forgive  my  want  of  faith  ! 
Thou  know'st  how  hard  it  is  to  grasp  the  thought 
Of  Life  through  Death. 

It  was  not  him  they  left 

In  the  grave's  cloister  sealed  : 
That  was  his  shadow — he  had  soared  away 
Where  welcomes  pealed. 

He  is  at  rest  with  Thee ; 

And  though  no  tidings  come 
From  out  that  region  very  far  away, 
It  is  our  Home. 

Yes,  yes,  he  is  with  Thee — 

But  Thou  art  with  me  too  ; — 

150 


.. 


DESOLA  TIOiV. 


Then  must  the  distances  that  'twixt  us  lie 
Be  very  few. 

Come,  then,  poor  struggling  heart, 
Give  thyself  up  to  God  ! 
Gaze  back  into  the  Man  of  Sorrows'  face  ! 
Tread  where  He  trod  ! 

Along  His  royal  road 

Of  consecrated  grief, 
Which  He  endured  unto  the  Cross  for  us, 
Nor  found  relief. 

Saviour,  beneath  that  Cross 
In  helplessness  I  cling, 
Trusting  no  more  to  arm  of  flesh,  but  now 
Be  Thou  my  King. 

O  keep  me  close  to  Thee, 

When  the  quick  shifting  throng 
Of  earthly  cares  oppress  my  heart  and  brain 
For  Thou  art  strong. 

Be  with  me  when  I  faint 

Beneath  my  weight  of  woe ; 
151 


DESOLA  TION. 


For  Thou  the  secret  mysteries  of  grief 
Alone  dost  know. 

Hold  me  through  life,  through  death, 
Until  to  Thee  I  come  ; 
For  Thou  wilt  show  to  me  the  path  of  life 
Thou  art  my  Home. 
152 


^ctf-tlccUcatimL 

CLOSE  those  white  eyelids — kiss  them — then  obey : 
Duty's  behests  must  meet  with  no  delay; 
Lay  down  thy  memories,  thy  hopes  most  fair, 
And  let  the  Past  be  all  extinguished  there ; 
Extinguished  for  a  moment,  but  to  rise 
Bright  and  immortal,  in  Love's  native  skies  ; 
Extinguished  for  a  moment,  that  thy  pain 
May  die  forever,  and  pure  joy  remain. 

Look  up  !  Heaven's  gate  upon  its  silent  hinge 
Is  quickly  closing — yet  a  gleaming  fringe 
Of  Glory  edges  the  still  open  door ; 
Send  in  thine  heart — swift — and  for  evermore. 
Be  His  alone,  Who  died  to  win  thy  love  ; 
Be  His,  all  His,  Who  pleads  for  thee  above  : 
Work  with  Him  meekly  as  His  hands  unwind 
The  tangled  web,  that  Earth  has  round  thee  twined ; 
Work  for  Him  truly  in  Life's  daily  task, 
And  what  the  future  hides,  nor  fear  nor  ask ; 

153 


SELF-DEDICA  TION. 


Seek  His  Will  only — leave  to  Him  the  rest, 
And  toil  or  suffer,  as  shall  please  Him  best. 

Look  onwards! — Hush  ! — the  Marriage  is  complete, 

The  banquet  is  prepared,  the  Virgins  meet : 

The  Angels'  snowy,  opal-tinted  wings 

Are  folded,  and  the  Harpers  hush  their  strings, 

As   stands  the   Bridegroom,  Conqueror,   King,  and 

Priest, 
To  pour  His  benediction  on  the  Feast. 
The  Bride,  adoring,  thinks  upon  that  hour, 
Ere  her  Lord  gave  Himself  to  Death's  dark  power, 
When  at  that  Passover  He  lifted  up 
His  eyes  to  heaven,  and  having  given  the  Cup, 
He  said  :  "  O  Father,  I  Thy  work  have  done, 
Into  Thy  glory  now  recall  Thy  Son  : 
I  will  that  she  I  ransom  as  My  Bride 
Be  with  Me,  in  My  glory  at  Thy  side."* 
And  the  strong  might  of  that  prevailing  Prayer 
Has  brought  her  to  His  Throne  and  Glory  there  ; 
Uplift  the  trumpets,  wake  the  harpstrings  now, 
And  let  the  voice  of  many  waters  flow. 


*  St.  John  xvii.  4,  5,  24. 

154 


SOFT,  soft  and  tender,  be  the  sorrow, 
Tears  full  of  sunlight  o'er  the  ground 
Wherein  that  infant  form  lies  sleeping, 
A  short  sleep,  till  the  Trumpet  sound. 

It  is  the  light  of  Heaven  that  hides  him ; 

Life,  and  not  Death,  has  come  between  : 
O  Christ,  there  lieth  in  Thy  bosom 

A  baby  that  in  ours  has  been. 

He  will  grow  up  among  the  angels, 
Upon  "  the  hidden  manna  "  feed, 

And  by  the  streams  of  living  waters 
They  will  his  tender  footsteps  lead. 

Weep  on  !  but  let  it  be  for  gladness, 
Tears  full  of  sunlight  o'er  the  ground 

Wherein  that  infant  form  lies  sleeping, 
A  short  sleep,  till  the  Trumpet  sound. 
i5S 


My  silence  and  my  solitude 
I  offer  up  to  Thee. 
Lord,  where  the  glad  Hosannas  sound, 
Wilt  Thou  not  think  of  me  ? 

Oh,  many  the  foundations  are 

Of  Thy  fair  City  tall, 
And  many  are  the  gates  of  pearl 

Set  in  the  jasper  wall. 

And  many  are  the  Mansions  there, 

And  many  are  the  feet 
Upon  the  jeweled  pavements,  where 

The  saved  and  happy  meet. 

A  little  while,  and  shall  I  be 
One  of  that  radiant  throng  ? 

A  little  while,  and  shall  I  join 
Their  everlasting  song  ? 

A  little  while — O  throbbing  heart, 
Then  surely  thou  canst  wait 

A  little  while,  and  learn  to  be 
Serene,  though  desolate. 

156 


YET  one  more  strain  of  joy  and  triumph  holy, 
For  a  new  work  achieved  and  victory  won  ; 
Another  vessel  in  the  Haven  anchored, 
Another  warfare  well  and  nobly  done. 

Yet  one  more  flag  is  on  the  ramparts  floating, 
Yet  one  more  footstep  on  the  Crystal  Sea, 
Another  harp  has  joined  the  "many  waters," 
Another  soul,  the  Kingdom  of  the  Free. 

O  Lord  our  God,  we  give  Thee  thanks  unfeigned, 
For  our  Beloved  who  walk  with  Thee  in  white, 
F/cn  though  our  path  below  must  now  be  shaded 
By  heavy  clouds,  that  hide  them  from  our  sight. 

And,  Lord,  that  love  which  Thou  hast  given  us  for 

them, 
We  weeping  offer,  to  be  kept  on  high, 
iTJntil  the  Day  when  we  shall  worship  with  them, 
Entranced  amid  the  splendors  of  the  sky. 

157 


THANKSGIVING. 


Teach  them  to  love  us  now,  with  heavenly  fullness, 
To  pray  for  us,  who  in  this  desert  roam  ; 
O  send  them  to  the  threshold  to  receive  us, 
When  we,  too,  go  to  dwell  with  Thee  at  home. 

And  shall  we  see  each  radiant  face  reflecting 
The  light  that  to  Incarnate  Love  belongs  ? 
And  hear  those  voices,  rapturously  blending 
With  thousand  times  ten  thousand  angel-songs  ? 

But  oh  !  not  now  ;  yet,  yet  awhile  we  linger, 
Till  weaned  from  life's  uncured  idolatry, 
Till  with  unfaltering  truth  our  hearts  can  whisper, 
"  Whom  have  we,  Lord,  in  all  that  heaven,  but  Thee !  " 

158 


BE  Thou  my  Alpha  !     Other  Lords  than  Thou 
Erewhile  have  ruled  this  sinful  soul  of  mine, 
But  now  I  wholly  turn  to  Thee,  and  say, 
Lord,  I  am  Thine. 

Thou  art  my  First,  O  Lord  ! — my  highest  choice  ! 
My  will  has  yielded  to  Thee,  and  found  rest ; 
By  many  a  token  sure  Thou  teachest  me, 
I  love  Thee  best. 

When  evening  clouds  hang  clustering  round  the  sun, 
And  sad  sweet  memories  make  my  heart  their  prey, 
It  swells  again  exultant  at  the  thought 
Of  that  great  Day, 

When  Thou  wilt  come  with  clouds,  that  shall  have 

caught 
New  and  surpassing  glories  from  Thy  light ; 
The  light  that  then  shall  rise  for  evermore, 
Nor  sink  in  night. 
159 


ALPHA. 

And  Music,  in  its  mystery  and  power, 
That  erewhile  would  have  steeped  my  heart  in  tears, 
Now  breathes  a  promise  through  its  aching  depths, 
Qf  those  bright  years. 

That  are  at  Thy  right  hand  in  Joy's  own  home, 
Where  the  eternal  Anthem  never  dies, 
But  ebbs  and  flows,  where  Music's  hidden  spring 
In  Glory  lies. 


All  Nature,  that  before  seemed  one  deep  dream 
Of  beauty,  steeped  in  sorrow,  now  doth  ring 
With  earnest  voices  of  expectant  joy, 
That  call  their  King. 

O  wounded  but  undying  Love  !  we  feel 
Thy  veiled  Presence  is  amongst  us  here  : 
Unto  the  longing  eyes  that  seek  Thee  now, 
Shine  out  more  clear  : 

Rule  me,  my  Lord  !  that  love  may  be  confirmed 

By  glad  obedience,  and  by  service  due ; 

Let  me  be  pliant  underneath  Thy  Hand, 

Meek,  docile,  true. 
1 60 


^tpTxa  atxtl  ©mega. 

ALPHA  and  Omega  ! 
Be  Thou  my  First  and  Last 
The  Source  whence  I  descend, 
The  Joy  to  which  I  tend, 
When  earth  is  past. 

Open  my  waking  eyes, 
And  fill  them  with  Thy  light; 
For  Thee  each  plan  begun, 
In  Thee  each  duty  done, 
Close  them  at  night. 

Enfold  me  when  asleep  ; 

Let  soft  dews  from  above 
Refresh  the  long  day's  toil, 
Wash  off  the  worldly  soil, 

And  strengthen  love. 
e6i 


ALPHA  AND  OMEGA. 


Men  speak  of  Four  Last  Things  ; 

Death,  and  the  Judgment  Hall, 
Hell,  and  the  Heaven  so  fair  : 
But  Thou,  O  Lord,  art  there, 

Beyond  them  all. 

There  is  no  "last"  with  Thee, 

But  only  our  last  sins, 

Last  sorrows,  and  last  tears, 
Last  sicknesses,  last  fears  ; — 

Then  Joy  begins  : 

Joy  without  bound  or  end, 
Concentric  circles  bright, 

Spreading  from  round  Thy  Throne, 

Flowing  from  Thee  alone, 

0  Love  !  O  Light !    ' 

Lay  Thy  right  Hand  of  Power 
In  blessing  on  my  brow  ; 

Heaven's  keys  are  in  Thy  Hand, 

Its  portals  open  stand  ; 

1  fear  not  now. 

162 


ALPHA  AND  OMEGA. 


Lead  Thou  me  gently  in, 

Thou  Who  through  Death  hast  passed ; 

Then  bring  me  to  Thy  Throne, 

For  Thee  I  seek  alone, 
My  First  and  Last. 
163 


THE  REMAINING  VERSES  ARE  ADDED 

AT  THE 

REQUEST  OF  SOME  FRIENDS. 


fXltxaovizdB. 

rPHIS  life  is  but  a  school-time, 
■■■      In  which  we  learn  to  love 
The  friends  we  see  around  us, 
The  unseen  God  above. 

Some  learn  by  active  service, 
Others,  in  grief  and  pain ; 

Some  seem  to  reap  in  gladness, 
The  rest,  to  toil  in  vain. 

The  great  thing  is,  to  study 
To  seek  our  Lord  in  all : 

His  great  Love  to  remember, 
Whatever  may  befall. 

We  know  the  blessed  story, 
Of  how  He  came  to  save, 

And  lived  as  Man  amongst  us 
From  childhood  to  the  grave. 

165 


MEMORIALS. 


And  Earth  has  now  her  tokens, 
That  He  has  touched  with  light ; 

Memorials  of  His  kindness 
Are  ever  in  our  sight. 

The  Pillows1  that  we  rest  on, 
The  Hairs2  upon  our  head, 

The  Basin3  of  clear  water, 
The  Towel4  fair  outspread  : 

Our  raiment  of  White  Linen,5 
The  Well6  beside  the  way, 

Our  Basket7  and  our  Money,8 
Our  Children9  at  their  play : 

The  little  Sparrows10  feeding, 

The  Wind11  that  strews  the  grain, 

The  Shepherd1*  gently  leading 
His  lambs  along  the  lane  : 


1  St.  Mark  iv.  38.  6  St.  Luke  xxiii.  53.  •  St.  Matt.  ii.  it  ; 

2  St.  Matt.  x.  30.  *  St.  John  iv.  6.  xviii.  2. 

■  St.  John  xui.  4,  5.  7  St.  John  vi.  13.  10  St.  Matt.  x.  29. 

<  Ibid.  8  St.  Luke  xx.  24.  »  St.  John  iii.  8. 


2  St.  John  x.  14 


166 


MEMORIALS. 


The  patient  Ass1  at  labor, 

The  Cattle  in  the  stall,2 
The  Cock3  at  morning  crowing, 

The  Dove's4  voice  at  nightfall : 

The  gleaming  of  the  Fire5 

Whose  warmth  is  round  us  spread, 
The  broiled  Fish6  and  the  Honey,7 

The  little  Loaves  of  Bread  :8 

The  Boats9  upon  the  Water, 
The  Fishers10  on  the  shore, — 

These  things  remind  us  of  Him, 
These,  and  a  hundred  more. 

And  Stars11  are  all  the  dearer, 
For  that  one  wanderer  bright, 

That  shone  of  old  at  Bethlehem, 
Upon  the  Wise  Men's  sight. 


1  St.  Matt.  xxi.  2.  5  St.  John  xxi.  9.  •  St.  Matt.  xiv.  32. 

*  St.  Luke  ii.  7.  •  St.  Luke  xxiv.  42.        10  St.  Luke  v.  2. 

3  St.  Luke  xxii.  60,  61.       7  Ibid.  »  St.  Matt.  ii.  9,  10. 

4  St.  John  ii.  16.  8  St.  John  vi.  11. 

167 


MEMORIALS. 


The  jeweled  lights  of  Sunset,1 

The  glory  of  the  Dawn,2 
The  snowy  Clouds3  of  Heaven, 

The  Flowers4  upon  the  lawn  : 

The  wild  Sea's6  tossing  splendor, 
Of  green  and  crested  waves, 

The  firmly  planted  Mountain,6 
Its  silent  rocky  Caves  :7 

The  voice  of  Sighs  and  Weeping,8 
The  Bier9  where  lies  the  Dead, — 

These  speak  to  us  of  Jesus, 
Of  words  that  He  has  said. 

And  pain  and  weakness  make  Him 
Nearer  and  dearer  seem, 

Till  life  becomes  a  story 
Of  which  He  is  the  theme. 


1  St.  Matt.  xvi.  2.  4  St.  Luke  xii.  27.  8  St.  Mark  vii.  34  ; 

2  St.  John  xxi.  4 ;  6  St.  Mark  vi.  48.  St.  John  xi.  35. 

Rev.  xxii.  16,  8  St.  Luke  vi.  12.  9  St.  Luke  vii.  14. 

s  Acts  i.  9.  T  St.  Mark  xv.  46. 

168 


MEMORIALS. 


When  Nurses1  gently  tend  us, 

When  Friends  hold  out  their  hands,5 

When  kind  Physicians3  cheer  us, 
Or  Priest  with  Chalice4  stands : 

In  each  we  may  discover 

The  likeness  of  our  Lord, 
Who  soothes  our  bed  of  sickness 

According  to  His  word.5 


O  then,  in  joy  or  sorrow, 
Whatever  may  befall, 

Let  us  our  Lord  remember, 
And  see  His  Love  in  all. 


1  St.  Mark  i.  31.  3  St.  Matt.  viii.  16,  17. 

2  St.  Mark  viii.  23.  4  St.  Matt.  xxvi.  27. 

6  Psalm  xli.  3. 

169 


n^HE  Day  is  dying  fast  away, 
■*■     Beneath  the  clouds  of  vapor  gray, 
And  the  bleak  wind,  and  driving  rain, 
"Rattle  against  the  window-pane, 
And  uncouth  shadows  rise  and  fall, 
Thrown  by  the  fire-light  on  the  wall, 
While  my  thoughts  wander  to  and  fro, 
Among  the  Twilights  long  ago. 

That  pleasant  pause  ! — too  dark  for  sight, 

Too  soon  to  have  the  candle-light : 

The  children  safely  laid  in  bed, 

Soft  quiet  in  the  small  homestead, 

Only  the  kettle's  fireside  song, 

Or  murmurs,  from  the  outward  throng, 

As  quietly  I  used  to  wait, 

And  watch  the  sparks  fall  from  the  grate. 

The  footsteps  passed  along  the  street, 

Until  those  came  I  sprang  to  meet ; 
170 


TWILIGHT. 

Then  the  strong  arm  was  round  my  waist, 

And  loving  words  my  spirit  braced  ; 

As  we  talked  over  all  the  day, 

My  weariness  soon  fled  away  : — 

O  tears,  keep  back  !  you  shall  not  swell : 

'Twas  God  Who  took  him — all  is  well. 

A  little  longer, — I  shall  feel 

That  arm  once  more  around  me  steal, 

And  hold  me  in  a  long  embrace, 

Where  sin  and  sorrow  have  no  place  : 

There,  God  Who  gave  him  to  be  mine 

Shall  fill  us  full  of  Life  Divine, 

And  of  His  pleasures,  from  their  river, 

Our  souls  shall  drink,  and  drink  forever ! 

A  little  longer,  trembling  heart ! 

Let  earth,  and  earthly  joys  depart : 

A  few  more  days,  revolving  slow, 

Let  a  few  Twilights  come,  and  go, 

Till  life's  appointed  course  is  run, 

And  Grace  its  mighty  work  has  done ; 

Then,  O  my  Saviour,  let  me  be 

At  home  in  Heaven,  at  home  with  Thee. 
171 


©u  tlxc  gcattt  of  ix  ClxUd 

WITH  tears  we  might  not  steep 
Thy  calm  and  placid  brow, 
Thy  gleaming  golden  hair 
Shading  a  cheek  too  fair, 
Like  sunbeams  upon  snow. 

Beautiful  ransomed  clay ! 

That  calm  was  not  of  sleep  : 
It  was  the  deep  repose 
Of  a  young  life's  last  close ; 

We  knew,  yet  might  not  weep, — 

But  knelt  beside  thy  couch, 

In  silent  agony ; 

All  sin  and  pain  were  fled, 

.Death's  Angel  o'er  thee  shed 

A  spotless  purity. 
172 


ON  THE  BE  A  TH  OF  A  CHILD. 


All  strewn  with  lilies  pale, 

And  robed  in  purest  white, 
In  the  still  chamber  thou, 
With  prayer  and  secret  vow, 
Wast  laid  that  mournful  night. 

Thy  life's  short  sorrows  past, 

Bright  one,  thou  art  at  rest ; 
From  our  deep  aching  love, 
Called  to  thy  Home  above, 
Thy  Saviour's  holy  breast ; 

He  Whose  dear  Name  had  power 
To  cheer  thy  soul  in  death, 

Lighting  thy  radiant  eye, 

Winning  a  soft  reply 

From  thy  last  trembling  breath. 

Therefore  we  may  not  weep, 

Because  our  prayers  are  heard  : 
From  sin's  deep  bitterness 
And  the  world's  wilderness, 
Flown  is  our  dove-like  Bird. 
173 


£cr 


•*     *     * 


OH  !  what  a  gift  of  melody  there  lies 
In  that  dear  voice,  whose  low  lamenting  tone, 
Amid  the  other  voices  that  arise, 

Wins  all  my  heart  to  hear  its  song  alone, 
Pouring  its  music  through  the  general  strain, 
Like  a  fresh  stream  unmingled  with  the  main. 

• 
E'en  thus  it  rolled  its  tender  tumult  on, 

The  Gloria  Patri's  solemn  gladness  through, 
Sweet  as  the  last  notes  of  a  dying  swan, 

Mournful  as  unrequited  love,  and  true, 
Till,  as  the  Amen  fell  upon  my  ear, 
It  steadied  into  music  strong  and  clear. 

What  d-eep  emotions  to  my  heart  were  brought, 
By  the  submissive  cadence  of  that  word ! 

The  holy  service  fixed  no  more  my  thought, 
And  e'en  that  Pastoral  voice  spoke  on  unheard, 

174 


TO 


#  *  •* 


As  thy  life's  vanished  years  came  thronging  fast, 
And,  in  processioned  train,  before  me  passed. 

God's  glory,  through  long  ages,  in  a  flood 

Its  boundless  splendors  in  vast  billows  rolled  ; 

Yet  thee,  a  thing  of  yesterday,  His  blood 
Bought  at  a  costliness  of  price  untold, 

That  thou,  frail  creature,  by  His  grace  should'st  be 

A  crown  and  trophy  of  His  victory. 

He  polishes  the  jewel  year  by  year, 

With  ceaseless  care,  and  chisel  sharp  and  keen, 
Shedding  Paternal  drops  of  pity  clear, 

Where  the  hot  edges  of  the  blade  have  been, 
That  thou  may'st  shine  a  fair  transcendent  gem, 
Forever,  in  Jehovah's  diadem. 

He  wills,  His  glory  should  by  thee  be  shown, 
Thy  patient  cheerfulness,  thy  quiet  faith, 

Thy  heavy  cross  borne  silently  alone, 

In  His  dear  steps  Who  loved  thee  to  the  death. 

'Ah  !  is  it  difficult  to  say,  Amen, 

With  sweet  unhesitating  voice  again  ? 

175 


TO    *** 


Is  not  each  deed  of  love,  each  thankful  thought, 
Each  secret  prayer  and  uncomplaining  sigh, 

Each  holy  act  in  self-denial  wrought, 
A  Gloria  Patri,  that  is  heard  on  high 

By  Him  Who  quenched  the  light  that  on  thee  shone, 

That  thou  might'st  sun  thee  in  His  Love  alone  ? 

He  is  thy  Father — and  thy  heart  can  tell 
The  deep,  deep  meaning  of  that  holy  word  ; 

A  Father  from  Whose  blessed  lips  "  Farewell  " 
Shall  never  through  Eternity  be  heard  : 

By  Him  were  all  thy  fine  affections  given  ; 

Return  them  now,  all  sanctified,  to  Heaven. 

Oh  !  in  unshaken  trust  on  Him  depend  ; 

Let  Hope's  sure  anchor  through  the  veil  be  cast : 
Soon  shall  these  bitter  struggles  have  an  end, 

This  weary-heartedness  shall  soon  be  past ; 
And  thou  and  thy  lost  treasure  shall  above 
Dwell  in  the  calmness  of  untroubled  love. 

176 


I  the  Lord  thy  God  will  hold  thy  right  hand,  saying  unto 
thee,  Fear  not,  I  will  help  thee." 

FEAR  not,  for  I  am  here, 
To  hold  thy  trembling  hand, 
To  lead  thee  through  the  coming  year, 
On  to  the  better  land. 

Yes  !  I  am  with  thee  now, 

To  watch  that  ransom'd  heart, 

To  see  how  in  its  woe 
It  will  perform  its  part. 

Do  not  I  know  the  thoughts 

That  crowd  across  thy  brain, 

Whose  sinking  soul  was  once 

Susceptible  to  pain  ? 
177 


HIS  PRESENCE. 


My  unforgotten  child, 

Have  I  not  prayed  and  wept, 
And  through  the  silent  night 

A  lonely  vigil  kept  ? 

Implicitly  resign 

Into  My  care  thy  soul ; 
These  hands,  that  wounded  thee, 

Can  they  not  make  thee  whole  ? 

On  other  hopes  than  Me 

Thou  hast  leaned  long,  and  hard : 
They  broke,  and  pierced  thy  spirit ; 

They  were  not  thy  reward. 

Then  rouse  thee,  fearful  one, 
And  turn  those  downcast  eyes 

To  where  prophetic  flashes 
In  the  far  East  arise. 

So  shalt  thou  calmly  venture 
On  through  the  wilderness, 

Safe  in  My  guiding  power, 
My  matchless  tenderness. 

i78 


HIS  PRESENCE. 


O  Sealed  for  Life  Eternal, 
What  mark  is  on  thy  brow  ? 

The  Cross  of  Him  who  suffer'd 
For  thee,  and  with  thee  now. 

Fear  not,  thy  Captain  whispers 
The  conflict  may  be  hard, 

But  I  am  thy  Deliverer, 

Thy  Shield  and  thy  Reward. 
179 


0  SPEAK  not  to  her  of  the  Past !— that  word 
Is  fraught  with  sense  of  pain; 
Tis  like  a  song  of  home,  in  exile  heard, 

An  old  familiar  strain, 
That  makes  us  pause  in  sadness, 

And  silently  depart 
To  listen  to  its  melody, 
With  undivided  heart. 

O  speak  not  to  her  of  the  Past,  nor  bear 

The  weary  wandering  dove, 
In  the  cold  winter's  melancholy  air, 

Back  to  its  nest  of  love  : 
The  autumn  winds  have  rent  it, 

The  songsters  all  are  flown  ; 
'Mid  dying  leaves  and  ice-drops 

It  perisheth  alone. 

It  may  be,  carelessly  thou  speak'st  some  name, 

In  an  untroubled  tone, 

That  once  unto  her  ear  like  music  came, 

In  days  forever  gone  : 

1 80 


THE  PAST. 


But  now  it  is  a  talisman 

To  waken  thoughts  of  gloom  ; 
Its  well-known  letters  are  inscribed 

On  some  far-distant  tomb. 

Or  gayly  thou  recallest  to  her  mind 

Some  well-remembered  scene, 
Where  sorrow,  that  has  left  its  sting  behind, 

Upon  her  soul  has  been  ; 
Or  hopes  that  rose  triumphantly 

Like  arrows  to  the  sky, 
Like  them,  too,  sank  back  rapidly, 

And  found  no  rest  on  high. 

Then,  Sister,  speak  not  of  the  Past  to  one 

Whose  memory  is  so  true 
To  thoughts  and  pictured  scenes  now  changed  and 
gone, 

And  friends  her  childhood  knew  : 
Her  heart-strings  are  too  finely  strung 

E'en  for  thy  hands  to  touch  ; 
They  break,  or  grow  discordant, 

At  but  one  stroke  too  much. 

Speak  rather  of  the  Future  :  bid  her  gaze, 
With  Faith's  untiring  eyes, 

181 


THE  PAST. 


Upon  the  distant  rose  and  amber  rays 

Now  stealing  o'er  the  skies  : 
Behind  them  lies  a  country 

Upon  whose  golden  strand 
Time's  waters  lose  their  power, 

And  trouble  not  the  land. 

O  bid  her  listen  to  those  words,  "  The  Past," 

As  they  are  spoken  there, 
As  bells  that  toll  awhile,  then  break  at  last 

In  gladness  on  the  air  : 
Yes,  music  far  more  thrilling 

Than  she  hath  heard  of  yore, 
In  undulating  echoes 

Is  wafted  from  that  shore. 


Tell  her,  the  shipwrecked  joys  of  other  years 

Are  landed  on  that  coast ; 
The  deathless  love,  which  she  hath  dimmed  with  teai  s 

Hath  there  its  sadness  lost : 
Ineffable  tranquillity 

Over  that  Home  is  cast, 

And  only  sin  and  sorrow 

Are  left  unto  the  Past. 

182 


H      X      •  • 

Easter,  1868. 

THOSE  little  feet,  that  could  not  walk, 
Have  climbed  the  golden  stair ; 
Those  silent  lips,  that  could  not  speak, 
Break  out  in  praise  and  prayer. 

The  hands  that  had  such  feeble  hold 

Now  grasp  a  golden  Palm ; 
The  heart  that  throbbed  with  suffering 

Is  bathed  in  endless  calm.    * 

That  weary  head  that  could  not  rest 
Is  crowned  with  garlands  bright ; 

Those  eyes,  of  mystery  so  full, 
Shine  with  unclouded  light. 

Therefore  our  Easter  morn  is  glad, 

Because  to  us  was  given 
A  Holy  Innocent,  to  yield 

Unto  the  Lord  of  Heaven. 

183 


I. 

March  20,  1870. 

RING  high,  ring  clear, 
Ye  bells  of  Heaven  ! 
An  entrance  bright 
To  him  be  given  ! 

Open  your  ranks, 

Ye  Angel  bands, 
To  where  the  high 

Green  Rainbow  stands.* 

Let  him  pass  on, 

Unto  the  feet 
Of  Him  he  loved, 

And  longed  to  meet 

Him  he  adored, 
And  yearned  to  see, 

With  Whom  his  soul 
At  rest  will  be. 


*  Rev.  iv.  3. 
184 


IN  MEMORIAM. 


Ring  high,  ring  clear, 
Ye  bells  of  Heaven  ! 

The  Morning  Star 
To  him  is  given. 


II. 

March  28,  1870. 

TOSS,  ye  wild  waves, 
Upon  the  shore ; 
He  is  at  rest, 
For  evermore. 

Moan  o'er  the  surf, 
Thou  wind  so  drear ; 

Moan,  sob,  and  wail ; 
He  will  not  hear. 

Close  by  he  lies  ; 

But  a  long  sleep 
His  wondrous  smile 

Enchained  doth  keep. 

185 


IN  MEMORIAM. 


Roll,  thou  wild  sea, 
Against  the  shore ; 

He  is  at  rest, 
For  evermore. 


III. 

FROM  infancy  I  had  the  right 
To  win  his  glances  tender, 
And  to  his  teaching,  deep  and  wise, 
My  spirit  to  surrender. 

Now  he  is  gone,  and  all  is  still ; 

Tears  make  no  noise  in  falling, 
Nor  sighs,  too  heavy  to  be  heard, 

Nor  names  the  heart  is  calling. 

I  sit  alone,  and  all  is  still ; 

Christ  makes  no  sound  in  healing, 

And  silently  the  Comforter 

Works  at  the  soul's  annealing. 
186 


To  I.  K.    Christmas,  1872. 

HOW  is  it  here  ?     A  quiet  grave  ; 
A  silence  in  the  Hall ; 
A  vacant  place  that  none  can  fill ; 
A  shadow  upon  all. 

How  is  it  There  ?     A  wreath  of  light ; 

A  name  that  none  can  tell ; 
A  palm-branch  gather'd  by  the  Fount 

Where  living  waters  swell ! 

Then,  friends,  still  hang  your  holly-boughs, 
Still  twine  the  Christmas  Rose, 

For  she  is  nearer  to  you  now 
Than  when  her  voice  arose 

In  Christmas  Carols  soft  and  clear, 

Whose  echoes  haunt  you  still 

With  sweetness  that  is  set  to  grief, 

And  longings  naught  can  fill. 
•   187 


HERE  AND    THERE. 


The  bright  home  circle  of  All  Saints 

Is  filling  in,  right  fast ; 
The  children  from  their  exile  come, 

Earth's  banishments  all  past. 

Let  melody  of  thankful  joy 

Unto  our  God  be  given ; 
A  little  while — we  too  shall  know 

What  Christmas  is  in  Heaven. 
188 


Shxnset  aurt  gxmvist. 

July  19,  1873. 

I. 

ASLEEP  he  seemeth 
On  his  grassy  bed, 
Thyme  and  blue  harebells 

Round  his  head ; 
While  fern-leaves,  rustling 

In  the  sunshine  fair, 
Wave  their  green  plumes  around  him, 
With  triumphant  air. 

The  tender  shadows 

Falling  from  the  hill, 
Rest  on  the  greensward 

Where  he  lieth  still. 
•O  wind,  blow  softly 

From  the  setting  sun  ! 

The  noblest  heart  in  England 

Its  great  work  has  done. 
189 


SUNSET  AND   SUNRISE. 


II. 

Was  it  sunset  only  ? 

Was  it  not  sunrise, 
Where  the  radiant  spirit 

Woke  with  "  glad  surprise  ? " 

Everlasting  Morning 

By  the  glassy  sea, — 
Sea  of  fire  and  crystal, 

Where  the  victors  be. 

He  who  fought  with  error, 

Firm  and  unenticed, 
Suddenly  translated 

To  the  smile  of  Christ. 

He  who  bore  God's  Ark  up 
With  such  steadfast  hand, 

Passed  the  River  dry-shod 
To  the  Heavenly  land. 

Still  the  silver  trumpet 
Echoes  from  above, — 
190 


SUNSET  AND   SUNRISE. 


His,  whose  life  was  Duty, 
And  his  watchword  "  Love.'* 

Let  us  mourn  him  nobly, 
Though  with  falling  tears ; 

With  no  weak  surrender, 
With  no  faithless  fears. 

Moses  and  Elijah 

Pass  away  from  sight, 
But  the  Lord  remaineth, 

Leader  of  the  fight. 

Saviour,  guard  and  guide  us 
Through  the  darkening  years, 

Till  the  last  have  triumphed, 
Till  the  morn  appears ; 

Everlasting  Morning 

By  the  Crystal  Sea, 
Where  the  crowned  and  ransomed 

Shall  abide  with  Thee. 
191 


€  x  0  w  u  t  xl  ♦ 

June  17,  1874. 

T  T  ER  course  fulfilled,  she  "  fell  asleep/' 
*~  *    Hushed  into  slumber,  sweet  and  deep. 

O  Rest,  well  earned 

By  her,  who  turned 
To  make  her  home  beneath  the  Cross, 
Counting  self-chosen  ease  as  loss ! 

Fair  story  of  a  steadfast  life, 

Led  in  the  shade,  apart  from  strife  : 

Heart,  calm  and  pure, 

That  would  endure 
God's  perfect  Will  unto  the  end, 
Knowing  the  Glory,  to  which  sorrows  tend  ! 

Where  is  she  now  ?     Not  where  the  breeze 

Murmurs  among  the  sheltering  trees, 

And  shadows  pass 

Over  the  grass, 
192 


CRO  WNED. 


And  sea-scents,  brought  from  distant  waves, 
Are  floating  o'er  the  quiet  graves. 

She  is  on  high  ; — her  eyes  have  seen 
The  King  Who  had  her  Saviour  been. 

O  life  fulfilled— 

In  rapture  stilled — 
With  Him  Who  led  her,  by  the  road 
Of  suffering,  to  be  crowned  of  God  ! 
193 


SAID  I,  a  ceaseless  stream  of  life  passed  on 
From  Earth  to  Heaven  ?     Yet  there  will  come 
a  pause. 
There  is  a  soul  that  shall  one  day  go  hence, 
Of  whom  convoying  angels  will  proclaim, 
"  This  is  the  last  that  has  to  pass  through  Death.' ' 
Then,  what  a  whisper,  what  a  thrill  will  run 
Through  all  the  realms  of  Paradise,  and  sweep 
On  through  the  Courts  of  Heaven,  and  every  star 
Of  Christ's  great  Universe  !     "  He  will  go  down, 
His  feet  upon  Mount  Olivet  shall  stand : 

Now  is  the  Resurrection." 

194 


•HHELL  it  out  among  the  people 

*     That  the  Saviour  is  the  King ; 
With  unceasing  Alleluias 

Let  the  new  creation  ring. 
Let  a  tide  of  intercession 

For  the  Spirit's  quickening  breath 
Overflow  the  barren  regions 

Still  in  darkness  and  in  death. 

Tell  it  out  among  the  people 

That  the  Father  sent  the  Son 
To  bring  back  to  Him  repentant 

A  lost  race  by  sin  undone, 
To  illuminate  their  darkness 

With  the  Day-spring  from  above, 
And  to  teach  man's  inmost  spirit 

That  the  Father's  Name  is  Love. 

Tell  it  out  among  the  people 
That  the  Saviour  seeks  the  lost, 
195 


MISSIONARY  HYMN. 


And  has  paid  down  as  their  Ransom 
His  own  Life's  most  mighty  cost. 

He,  with  ceaseless  supplications, 
Intercedes  for  us  above, 

And  has  bid  His  Church  bear  record 
That  the  Saviour's  Name  is  Love. 

Tell  it  out  among  the  people 

That  the  Spirit  has  come  down, 
And  He  still  abides  among  us, 

The  Redeemer's  work  to  crown. 
He  renews  us,  heals  us,  helps  us, 

Although  weak  and  slow  we  prove, 
And  each  contrite  heart  can  witness 

That  the  Spirit's  Name  is  Love. 

Tell  it  out  to  every  creature 

That  the  Lord  will  soon  return 
To  rebuild  the  earth's  waste  places, 

And  to  comfort  all  that  mourn : 
That  disease,  and  death,  and  danger 

From  before  Him  will  depart ; 
And,  God's  Love,  at  last  victorious, 

He  will  reign  in  every  heart. 
196 


L 


"(Duv  Xigltt  Affliction" 

ORD !  dost  Thou  call  this  our  affliction  "  light  ?  " 
Is  all  this  anguish  little  in  Thy  sight  ? 


"  Child,  bring  thy  balance  out.     Put  in  one  scale 
All  thine  afflictions;  give  them  in  full  tale; 
All  thy  bereavements,  grievances,  and  fears ; 
Then  add  the  utmost  limit  of  man's  years : 
Now  put  My  Cross  into  the  other  side, — 
That  which  I  suffered,  when  I  lived  and  died." 

1 1  can  not,  Lord  ;  it  is  beyond  my  might : 
And  lo  !  my  sorrows  are  gone  out  of  sight ! 

"  Then  try  another  way.     Put  in  the  scale 
The  glory  now  unseen,  behind  the  Veil ; 
The  glory  given  to  be  thine  own  estate ; 
Use  that  '  exceeding  and  eternal  weight :' 
Which  kicks  the  beam?" 

Ah  !  Lord,  Thy  word  is  right ; 
Thus  weighed,  my  sorrow  doth  indeed  seem  'Might." 

197 


W&cltomcil. 

November  16,  1874. 

FOLLOW,  follow,  follow, 
Follow  the  glad  flight 
Of  the  soaring  spirit 

To  the  Home  of  Light : 
Veil  thy  face  adoring, 

As  she  hears  the  word 
That  will  bid  her  welcome, 
When  she  sees  the  Lord  ;— 

Sees  Him  in  His  glory 

Human  and  Divine, 
Where  the  twofold  splendors 

On  His  brows  combine  : 
For  such  height  of  blessing 

Unto  man  is  given, 
Christ  to  us  is  nearer 

Than  aught  else  in  Heaven ! 


Veil  thy  face  adoring ; 

Mortal  can  not  know 
19S 


WELCOMED. 


Of  that  wondrous  meeting, 

The  heart's  overflow ; 
Its  full  transformation 

In  that  utter  light ; 
The  soul's  consummation 

In  its  Saviour's  sight. 

When  searched  through  with  glory, 

And  instinct  with  light, 
With  Love's  burning  lustre 

And  Joy's  deep  delight, 
He  will  give  her  entrance 

To  the  long,  long  line 
Of  the  perfect  spirits 

Who  around  Him  shine. 

O  what  bursts  of  greeting ! 

O  what  outstretched  hands, 
And  what  jubilations 

Mid  those  saintly  bands ! 
As  the  friends  receive  her, 

Whom  she  loved  the  most, 
With  the  choral  welcomes 

Of  the  angel  host. 
199 


WELCOMED. 


Fix  thy  gaze  upon  them, 

For  the  Grave  is  deep, 
And  thy  heart  is  lonely, 

And  thine  eyes  must  weep ; 
And  the  shadows  gather 

In  the  Home  she  left ; 
And  while  she  rejoices, 

Thou  art  sore  bereft. 

Yet  let  glad  Hosannas 

From  thy  heart  arise ; 
For,  though  Earth  is  darkened, 

Thou  hast  still  the  skies ; 
And  thy  place  is  ready 

High  above  all  sorrow ; 
Trust  thyself  to  Jesus, 

And  thou  too  shalt  follow. 
200 


£Uce. 

Capetown,  April  5,  1S73. 

FROM  the  unceasing  swell 
Of  the  blue  restless  waves, 
Inland  they  bore  the  lily  form 
Unto  those  Southern  graves. 

The  sunny  Earth's  warm  breast 
Received  her  peaceful  smile, 

From  life's  short  voyage  laid  to  rest 
Just  for  a  little  while. 

O  Mother,  Death  is  strong, 
But  Christ  is  stronger  still ; 

And  the  Death  Angel  in  his  wrath 
Does  but  fulfill  His  will, 

Who  from  Earth's  fairest  things 

Takes  some  unstained  away, 

To  be  brought  up  beside  His  Throne, 

And  dwell  with  Him  alway. 
201 


ALICE. 


And  when  the  mighty  hosts 

Of  the  redeemed  shall  meet, 
All  times,  all  races,  circling  round, 

Adoring  at  His  feet, 

Will  not  a  special  grace 

Of  heavenly  beauty  rest 
On  those  bright  souls  who,  ere  they  sinned, 

Were  taken  to  be  blest, 

Filled  from  the  first  with  light, 
Filled  with  the  Spirit's  power ; 

Of  our  redeemed  humanity 
The  undefiled  flower  ? 

O  sight  for  eyes  now  dimmed 

With  hot  tears  falling  fast ! 
O  morn  of  unimagined  joy 

That  evermore  shall  last ! 
202 


u 


gum  sor  %ov&  gcsxxs." 


YET  one  more  whisper  of  Thy  Name, 
A  whisper  low  and  deep, — 
A  something  that  the  heart  would  fain 
As  its  own  secret  keep  ; 

But  yet  must  tell,  from  pure  amaze 
At  Thy  long-suffering  grace, 

That  overflows  our  deepest  needs, 
And  sweeps  away  all  trace 

Of  bitterness,  from  out  our  griefs, 

That  unbelief  has  made. 
Can  grief  be  bitter,  when  we  know 

It  is  but  joy  delayed  : — 

Joy  set  apart,  that  it  may  grow 

Unto  a  height  of  bliss 

And  beauty,  in  that  other  world, 

It  could  not  reach  in  this  ? 
203 


"EVEN  SO,  LORD  JESUS! 


And  while  it  grows,  above  all  fear 

Of  danger  or  of  sin, 
The  Lord  by  grief  expands  our  hearts 

To  take  new  blessing  in. 

Lord,  fill  our  chasms  with  Thyself, 
For  Thou  all  loss  hast  measured  ; 

Yea,  fill  us  fuller  of  Thyself, — 
In  Thee  all  gain  is  treasured. 

But  we  are  weak,  and  toss  about 
For  something  that  shall  ease  us ; 

Then  come,  and  win  from  out  our  hearts 
An  "  Even  so,  Lord  Jesus  !  " 


THE   END. 


APPENDIX. 


The  following  Poems,  "  The  Communion  of  the 
Sick,"  which  were  written  by  request,  for  a  sick 
friend,  in  1875,  and  "  New-blown  Flowers  on  All 
Saints*  Day,"  are  added,  as  being  among  the  very 
latest  that  the  Author  wrote.  The  other  three, 
though  written  some  years  ago,  are  now  published 
for  the  first  time,  to  show  how  she  loved  to  hear 
God's  Voice  in  Nature,  and  how  she  could  rejoice 
with  the  rejoicing,  no  less  truly  than  she  could 
sorrow  with  the  sorrowing. 

205 


gltc  (Communion  of  t\xz  Mtk. 

THE  Master  said,  "  Child,  come  apart ; 
Distraction  reigns  within  thy  heart. 
There  is  a  Cross  in  this  calm  shade, 
And  thou  upon  it  must  be  laid. 
For  more  advancement  thou  dost  ask  and  yearn, 
And  there  are  lessons  here  for  thee  to  learn." 

"  I  am  cut  off  from  all,"  she  said, 

u  Like  a  weak  branch*,  half  sere  and  dead  : 

The  life  that's  flowing  full  and  free 

Through  others,  hardly  stirs  in  me. 

I  lie  alone,  in  dark  and  desert  ways, 

And  have  no  fount  within,  of  joy  and  praise." 

The  Master  said,  "  She  must  be  fed  : 

Take  to  my  child  the  Living  Bread, 

And  pour  into  her  heart  the  Wine 

That  flowed  on  Calvary  from  Mine, 

207 


THE  COMMUNION  OF  THE  SICK. 

To  be  the  strength  of  fainting  souls  forever, 
And  make  them  drink  of  Peace,  as  from  a  river." 
O  close  thine  eyes,  and  list  the  words* 
That  gently  rise  like  solemn  chords 
Loosed  by  soft  touch  from  organ  keys, 
That  rise  and  swell,  till,  like  a  breeze, 
The  onward  rushing  of  a  glorious  sound 
Thrills  every  heart,  and  sweeps  in  waves  around. 

"  Then  are  they  here,  the  Angel  Host  ?  " — 
Sphere  after  sphere  from  Heaven's  high  coast ! 
Seraphic  tones,  Archangels'  song, 
The  voices  of  the  ransomed  throng, 
Circling  thee  round,  and  helping  thee  to  raise 
To  the  Thrice  Holy  One  thy  hymn  of  praise  ! 

The  vision  fades  ;  the  anthem  dies  ; 

But  Peace  from  God  upon  thee  lies. 

The  soul,  absolved,  is  bid  to  rest, 

Thrice  blessed,  on  its  Saviour's  breast, 

By  Him  upborne  through  suffering  and  strife, 

Until  Mortality  be  lost  in  Life. 

*  "Therefore  with  Angels  and  Archangels,  and  with  all 
the  Company  of  Heaven,"  etc. 

208 


j&iiuts'  gay, 

FROM  the  cold  earth,  flowers 
Spring  again  to  sight, 
And  their  petals  glisten 
With  a  roseate  light : 

While  the  scent  that  charmed  us 

In  the  days  gone  by, 
On  the  air  is  floating 

To  the  calm  gray  sky. 

On  some  unknown  morning 

An  unwonted  sound 
Will  descend  from  Heaven, 

Through  the  hard  dark  ground ; 

And  the  forms  we  planted 

Amid  sobs  and  tears, 
And  have  missed  and  sighed  for, 

Through  the  long,  sad  years, 
209 


NE  W-BLO  WN  FLO  WERS  ON  ALL  SAINTS'  DA  Y. 

Shall  again  awaken, 

And  come  forth  to  sight 
In  unwonted  beauty, 

In  "  exceeding  white  ;  " 

And  the  smiles  we  watched  for, 

In  the  days  gone  by, 
And  the  deep  affections 

Which  could  never  die, 

Shall  again  entrance  us 

With  a  heavenly  spell, 
Where  no  sin  or  danger 

Any  more  may  dwell. 

Unto  Christ,  the  Victor 

Over  Death  and  Hell, 
The  Earth's  great  Restorer, 

Let  our  praises  swell. 

Low,  sweet  Alleluias, 

From  sad  hearts  arise — 

The  mourner's  Hosannas 

Are  loved  in  the  skies  ! 
210 


gtttj  WMn&owt. 

'T^HE  vine-leaves  growing  on  the  wall 
A      Spread  out  their  leafy  screen, 
The  sunlight  piercing  through  them  all, 

With  green  and  golden  sheen ; 
While  shadows  flicker  to  and  fro, 

Like  living  things  at  play : 
The  world  with  joy  doth  overflow 

Upon  this  breezy  day  ! 

One  shoot,  of  burnished  red  and  gold, 

Upon  the  soft  air  swings, 
Or  on  those  clustered  flowers  takes  hold, 

With  all  its  little  rings, 
And  shakes  their  perfume  far  and  near, 

So  pure,  and  so  intense, 
It  enters  as  a  blessing  here, 

Upon  the  thankful  sense. 

How  fair  those  honeysuckles  rise, 
Roseate  and  creamy  white, 

211 


MY  WINDOW. 


With  amber  depths,  where  hidden  lies 
The  murmuring  bee's  delight ; 

And  there  come  forth,  from  a  near  bird. 
Such  notes  upon  the  air, 

As  he,  just  now,  of  Heaven  had  heard, 
And  felt  he  should  be  there ! 

Some  shining  red,  some  yellow  pale, 

Hang  cherries  on  yon  tree, 
That  feed  this  joyous  Nightingale 

Who  sings  so  loud  and  free, 
As  to  his  branch  of  fir  he  clings, 

Which  waves  him  up  and  down, 
While  from  its  wind-harp  music  rings 

As  sweet  as  is  his  own ! 

And,  over  all,  the  blessed  skies, 
With  their  blue  hiding  light, 

Veiling  the  Throne  to  which  our  sighs, 
And  hopes,  and  prayers  take  flight : 

O  can  it  be  that  nothing  hides 
Between  that  Throne  and  me, 

But  vapors,  and  the  deep  blue  tides 

Of  that  unfathomed  sea  ? 
212 


MY  WINDOW. 


The  Son  is  interceding  there 

With  God, — well  pleased  to  yield; 
The  sevenfold  Spirit  burnetii  clear, 

Till  all  shall  be  revealed  : 
Way  to  the  Holiest  open  lies ; 

O  heart,  then  enter  in, 
White  with  the  Blood  of  Sacrifice, 

The  new  song  to  begin. 
213 


T    ORD  JESUS!  who  at  Cana  turned 
■*— '    The  water  into  wine, 
I  pray  Thee  now  to  sanctify 
This  happiness  of  mine. 

That  marriage  banquet  saw  Thee  placed 

A  guest  beside  the  Bride ! 
O  now  in  mercy  let  me  feel. 

Thy  Presence  at  my  side. 

All  Love  and  Gladness  come  from  Thee, 

And  I  would  seek  them  now, 
Straight  from  Thy  Blessed  Hands,  and  breathe 

To  Thee  my  marriage  vow. 

Let  me  renounce  the  world's  false  ways, 

And  take  Thy  Holy  Will 

To  be  my  guidance,  as  I  strive 

New  duties  to  fulfill. 
214 


HOL  Y  MA  TRIMONY. 


Grant  me  the  meek  and  quiet  heart, 

On  others'  welfare  bent, 
Which  is,  in  God's  All-holy  eyes, 

Woman's  best  ornament. 

And  let  me  glory  to  obey, 
And  quell  all  cause  of  strife ; 

O  let  no  selfishness  profane 
That  holy  name  of  "  wife  !" 

Pour  Thy  full  blessing  upon  him 
Now  knit  to  my  own  soul — 

With  quickening  step  let  us  advance 
Unto  the  heavenly  goal. 

There,  wedded  love  shall  not  be  lost, 
But  drawn  by  sweet  constraint, 

Into  that  higher  Love,  of  which 
It  is  the  image  faint. 

Prepare  us,  Lord,  for  that  great  Day, 

And  let  our  marriage  be 
A  step  by  which  our  souls  may  rise 

Nearer  to  Heaven  and  Thee. 
215 


&  ittothcv's  ^vaycv  tax  Ticx* 

OLORD,  this  little  infant  lying 
With  soft,  warm  pressure  on  my  knee- 
This  helpless,  tender,  gentle  infant, 
I  hold  him  as  a  gift  from  Thee. 

0  Lord,  this  baby  softly  feeding, 

Whose  pulses  beat  and  blend  with  mine, 

1  give  him  back  to  Thee  forever, 
To  be  not  only  mine,  but  Thine. 

Lord,  teach  me  how  to  train  him  wisely, 
Show  me  the  way  he  ought  to  go  : 

Thou,  his  Creator  and  Redeemer, 
Such  wisdom  only  canst  bestow. 

O  never  let  my  sin  or  weakness 
Be  stumbling-blocks  upon  his  way, 

The  good  I  teach  him  contradicting, 
Or  turning  him  to  go  astray, 
216 


A  MOTHER'S  PR  A  YER. 


Grant  me  with  persevering  firmness 
Against  each  form  of  ill  to  fight, 

And  tenderly,  with  holy  meekness, 
To  win  him  to  the  love  of  right. 

And  give  him  true  and  manly  courage 
To  choose  the  right,  and  hate  the  wrong; 

All  meanness,  selfishness,  and  falsehood, 
To  trample  down  with  purpose  strong. 

And  let  his  life  be  one  fair  up-growth 
Of  Thine  Own  Image  in  his  soul, 

Advancing  still,  through  joy  and  sorrow, 
Under  Thy  Spirit's  blest  control. 

0  Lord,  this  baby  softly  feeding, 

Whose  pulses  beat  and  blend  with  mine, 

1  give  him  back  to  Thee  forever, 

To  be  not  only  mine,  but  Thine. 
217 


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AND 


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Br  ALEXANDER  RALEIGH,  D.D. 


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41  The  author  is  a  prince  among  living  English  preachert. 

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fulness  in  its  flow." 

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works.  Dr.  Raleigh  has  rare  ability,  taste,  and  learning. 
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"  We  speak  a  wide  circulation  for  so  good  and  Chris- 
tian a  book." — Presbyterian. 

"  There  is  an  exquisite  flavor  and  charm  in  these  medi- 
tations."—  The  Advance. 

•'Good  from  beginning  to  end."—  The  Churchman. 

ik  Warm  and  generous  in  tone.'" — The  CongregationaliM. 

12mo,  cloth,  price  $1.25.  May  be  obtained  of  the  book- 
tellers,  or  will  be  sent,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  the  price 
oy  the  publishers, 

ANSON  D.   F.  RANDOLPH  &  COMPANY, 
»0)  Broadway,  Cor.  20th  St.,  New  York. 


Holy  Cross. 

A  history  of  the  Invention,  Preservation,  and 
Disappearance  of  the  wood  known  as  the  True 
Cross. 

By    WM.    C.    PRIME,    LL.D. 
\6mof  Cloth,  Si.oo. 

"A  history  which  the  reader  will  find  all  too  brief,  so 
fascinating  and  romantic  is  the  subject  treated,  and  so  elo- 
quent is  Dr.  Prime's  style." — Boston  Journal. 

44  A  book  which  is  all  interesting  and  good."— Congre- 
Rationalist. 

l*  Full  of  interesting  matter,  history,  tradition,  and 
poetry." — New  York  Observer. 

44  Absorbingly  interesting." — Sunday-school  Times. 

H  Extremely  entertaining  to  the  curious." — Christian 
Union. 

44  We  commend  this  little  book." — Christian  Weekly. 

44  The  research  and  work  compressed  into  this  little 
volume  are  amazing." — Contributor. 

M  Not  only  interesting,  but  deeply  affecting  as  well." — 
Advance. 

44  Mr.  Prime's  book  is  a  most  attractive  one."— Presby- 
terian. • 

44  Information  and  sound  good  sense." — Churchman. 

44  His  narrative  is  intensely  interesting."  —  Christian 
Intelligencer. 

44  A  model  of  clear  and  vigorous  writing,  which  rises  often 
into  a  restrained,  but  deep  eloquence,  or  kindles  into  the 
most  glowing  and  picturesque  description." — Hartford 
Co  u  rant. 

For  sale  by  the  booksellers,  or  will  be  sent,  post-paid,  on 
receipt  of  price  by  the  publishers, 

ANSON    D'.    F.    RANDOLPH    &    COMPANY, 
900  Broadway,  Cor.  20th  St.,  New  York, 


BY  ANNA  WARNER. 

(IN   PROSE.) 

The    Melody   of  the  XXIIId.   Psalm. 

Cloth,  gilt,  75  cents  ;   cloth,  flexible,  4c 

cents. 

"  A  loving-  comment  upon  the  words  of 
that  inspired  meditation" 

The  Fourth  Watch.    Cloth,  gilt,  75  centr  : 

cloth,  plain,  60  cents. 

"A.    series    of  thoughtful   and   high!* 
spiritual    refections,  paraphrases,    etc 
derived  from  the  life  of  our  Saviour." 

The  Other  Shore.     Cloth,  gilt,  80  cents  ; 

cloth,  plain,  60  cents. 

11  In  the  form  of  a  narrative,  or  rather 
in  a  series  of  conversations,  we  have  about 
all  the  Bible  tells  us  of  the  future  life." 
The  Melody  of  the  XXIIId.  Psalm,  The 

Fourth  Watch  and   The  Other  Shore  in 

one  vol.    (Red-line  edition.)    Large  24010, 

cloth,  gilt,  $2.        # 

Wayfaring    Hymns.      Cloth,    flexible,  30 
cents  ;  cloth,  gilt,  50  cents. 

Either  or  all  of  the  above  sent  by  mail, 
post-paid,  on  receipt  of  the  price.  Frac- 
tional amounts  can  be  remitted  in  post- 
age-stamps. 

Anson  D.  F.  Randolph  &  Company, 
900  Broadway,  New  York. 


